


wild rose of the rhotano

by treztine



Series: set our hearts ablaze [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirates, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Femslash February, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, kind of? more like a medium roast, this is just a shameless sexy pirate au don't @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-10-22 02:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17653961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treztine/pseuds/treztine
Summary: A treasure hunter takes on a job and ends up getting more than she bargained for when she clashes with a famed pirate captain. Will the fearless adventurer claim her bounty? Or will she instead be claimed by her captor?Just some shameless smut wrapped in a pirate flavored plot.





	1. mistbeard's barb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there was a bit of dialogue during the stormblood msq that stuck with me and inspired this whole mess. carvallain (the pirate who takes wol and the gang to kugane) says this: "The fiery one—Alisaie, was it? 'Tis a pity she holds our profession in such disdain. She would make an _excellent_ pirate." and well the rest is history.
> 
> some notes: ali is 26 and my wol is 28 in this. it's mostly lighthearted and a bit silly. the good stuff happens in the last few chapters, so it's a slowish burn. enjoy!

The moon hung above the sea, round as a pearl and just as bright. It cast its light on the water, sending shimmering sparks of mist through the air as waves lapped against the rocks that poked out from beneath the inky surface. Their jagged edges were not spared from the moon's glow, painted with enough gleaming silver to pass for knives or swords or the razor sharp teeth that lined the maw of some ferocious beast. A thin fog rolled across the sea and between the rocks in small, gossamer puffs that made the whole scene just eerie enough to be considered hauntingly beautiful.

It would have been considered beautiful to anyone else, perhaps, but not to the damp and irritated Miqo'te who found herself navigating those treacherous waters. The expanse of sea that surrounded the Isles of Umbra was considered unpleasant to most seafarers. So, to her—the desert-born who most certainly was  _not_ a seafarer by any means—it was downright deadly. Deadly and unpleasant, to boot. As if to prove that point, a rolling wave slapped the side of the tiny rowboat and sent a spray of water right into the face of its single occupant. 

"Stupid, bloody water," she hissed, spitting against the salt that found her lips, and wiped her face on the crook of her arm. "Just _had_ to end up here, didn't I?" The water had no answers for her, choosing instead to churn blithely in silence, ignorant of her plight.

The salt-seeped air stung her nose and her throat and clung to her clothes, coating her in an uncomfortable film that stunk to the Seven Hells of kelp and whatever else it was that brewed in the briny deep. The fact that the rowboat she paddled was very difficult to steer jarred her from her annoyed thoughts and urged her to pay closer attention to her surroundings.

She glanced up at the moon, thankful to it for illuminating everything just enough to ensure she didn't crash into any of the rocks she found herself constantly and just barely dodging. Through the screaming of her sore muscles and the pounding in her ears she wondered what had possessed her to accept this particular job. The thought of the pay was just enough to appease her, along with the pleasant reverie of finally being free of the Syndicate's incessant yoke. Her pride spoke up as well to remind her that no job was too treacherous or shady or _salty_ for her—the great treasure hunter Poppy—to take on.

Another strong wave hit the boat with enough force to make her yelp in surprise. The rocking that came with it made her stomach lurch and her pride sting.

"Stupid, bloody, _godsdamned_ water," she repeated herself, louder that time in hopes that the sea would somehow hear her and take offense.

She tore the paddles through the water with renewed zeal in retaliation, gritting her teeth all the while. The faster she got to the next island, the faster she could find the bloody dagger she was after and be done with the whole affair.

The eventual sight of something other than a pointy rock was a relief, to say the least—especially since that something looked a lot like land. The dark outline of it loomed in the near distance and when Poppy passed through the thin curtain of fog that veiled her view, she could see the shore of an approaching island. As the tide and her rowing pulled her closer to the sands, she noticed a row of skiffs that lined the beach. It all but confirmed that she'd sniffed out just enough of the right bits of gossip to piece together the location of her quarry. The treasure hunter sneered, feeling quite pleased with herself.

When the water was shallow enough, Poppy hopped out of her boat only to feel chilled water immediately seep into her boots. Annoyance plucked at her nerves at the thought of how it would take a whole moon to get the stink of the sea out of them. She pushed the thoughts away with a sigh and focused on pulling the rowboat onto the shore enough for the tide to not steal it away. With that task done, she turned her attention to the other skiffs.

There were five of them, all slightly larger than her own, with enough room for two or three in each; perfect for a group of thieving bandits who needed to be discreet. They were likely holed up somewhere on the island, lying in wait for the rest of their crew to pick them up with a bigger ship.

Poppy looked up to scan the edge of the beach. Palms loomed overhead and swayed gently in the breeze while a thicket of dense foliage blocked her from seeing much further. It looked like a good place to make a temporary hideaway. It was a solid plan on their part, really. It was almost a shame that she would have to ruin it. But, business was business and the treasure hunter aimed to get paid. Poppy shelved any lingering hesitation—which wasn't much to begin with—and slipped through the thicket a few moments later in search of her target.

The foliage overhead was thick enough to block most of moon's light, though she hardly needed it at that point. Despite the unfamiliarity of her surroundings, she felt comfortable in her cloak of shadows. Her ears were enough to guide her on dry land, after all. The soft trill of insects echoed all around, along with the sound of birds shifting in their nests above and the occasional small rodent burrowing through leaves at her feet. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary. However, Poppy still pressed onward, quiet as a coeurl who stalked her prey. It wasn't long before her patience paid off.

The Miqo'te's ears twitched forwards, picking up sounds outside the normal nighttime ambiance. She froze in her tracks when she noticed a faint light shine through the greenery up ahead. She tilted her head to catch the rustling of fabric and the sound of pebbles shifting beneath feet and a faint murmur of voices. Poppy crouched down and crept forward to peer through the foliage, tail twitching behind her with excitement.

Just before her, the thicket thinned out enough to be considered a clearing. With no palms to obscure it, moonlight fell freely upon the open space and illuminated the small camp and the inhabitants who roamed it. It didn't take long for Poppy's excitement to fade when she realized something about the scene was off.

The camp had been ransacked. A group of people milled about, turning over crates and picking through the contents of several disheveled tents that had been torn down. A fire pit full of embers sputtered in the middle of the clearing, where an overturned pot of what looked to be stew had put out its flames and filled the air with an acrid, bitter smell. If those were the bandits who had the treasure she was after, they weren't doing a very good job of cleaning up after themselves. Annoyance reared its persistent head yet again as Poppy realized that she'd been beaten to the punch. She shoved the feeling down after silently cursing her rotten luck and turned her attention to deducing who she was up against.

The group of ten or so were all women of varying races, each sporting a blouse dyed a vivid shade of red. Most of them appeared to be armed, she noticed, with daggers or swords or pistols that hung on their belts. They looked to be a cohesive group—a rival gang of bandits, perhaps. Poppy crept forward a few cautious paces to get a better view and scanned the camp again until her gaze found the nearest pair who stood with their backs towards her. They seemed to be overseeing the scouring of the camp.

"Gotta admit, the bastards had guts," she heard the taller of the two say. The Highlander shook her head in either admiration or disbelief. "Robbin' a ship so close to Limsa like that."

The Miqo'te beside her crossed her arms and scoffed. "Guts? Ha! Bunch of rash idiots, more like. They didn't get very far 'fore we caught wind of them, after all," she said and grinned up at her companion, who barked a laugh. 

"Aye, fair point. Admiral's lucky we were passin' through long enough to chase 'em down for her."

Poppy's ears twitched forward in her surprise. It seemed she wasn't dealing with any old bandits, if she was hearing right. She wondered, though, who the Admiral of Limsa Lominsa herself would send to retrieve a stolen relic. It couldn't be the _Yellow_ jackets, for obvious reasons. Before she could ponder further, all activity in the camp paused when a muffled voice came from the only upright tent that remained.

An Elezen woman pushed past the flaps of the tent to emerge into the night, tall enough that she had to bend over to get through. When she stood to her full height, Poppy could immediately tell she was the leader of the group. An ornate red overcoat hung from her willowy frame, covering a frilled blouse and matching her breeches. The long rapier strapped to her hip glittered faintly under the moonlight, menacing despite its elegant design and pink color. However, Poppy's eyes were mostly drawn to the hat that sat atop her head. The red tricorne held a single white feather, along with a rose that gave her identity away at a single glance. 

She'd often heard whispers from contacts in Limsa that spoke of a ruthless woman clad in rose red who stalked the sea and sunk anyone fool enough to oppose her, all while spiriting wayward women away to fill her ranks. It seemed that Poppy was only a handful of yalms away from the Wild Rose of the Rhotano herself.

Pirates. Of course, it just had to be bloody _pirates_. A chill of apprehension passed through the treasure hunter. She wasn't equipped to deal with that sort of snag in her plan.

"It seems our friends have left something quite interesting behind in all their haste to excuse themselves," the Elezen captain announced as she made her way to the center of the camp. "Though, I suppose I don't blame them. It was rather rude of us to drop in uninvited, after all."

A smug sort of satisfaction tugged at her words and she smiled when her crew broke into laughter and excited chatter at the sight of the prize she held up to them. Poppy leaned forward when she saw the dagger held in her grasp—the very dagger she was meant to retrieve.

"Thalia, with me. We have unfinished business that we must attend to," the captain said as she approached the pair of women at the edge of the camp.

The Miqo'te stiffened in attention and nodded, unhooking a cutlass from her belt. "Aye, captain." Though Poppy couldn't see her face, she assumed the woman had grinned again, judging by the delight in her tone.

"Adeline, you stay and watch the camp." The Elezen held the dagger out to the Highlander when she was close enough, who took it from her with all the care in the world. "Hold onto this. See that is stays safe."

"Yes, cap'n."

The captain turned back to the others to issue her next order, "Half of you are to join me, while the rest stay and finish rummaging. Take anything that appears to be valuable."

Amidst the chatter of the crew that sorted themselves out, the captain looked back towards the woman named Adeline. Poppy saw her gaze sweep the edge of the thicket and pass directly over her. The treasure hunter held her breath, unable to look away from the eyes she was sure had seen her. They were a steely blue, half hidden beneath a snowy, windswept fringe, and sharp as her sword despite the softened look the down-turned corners gave them.

However, Poppy's luck hadn't completely run out yet. The captain spun on her heel a breath later, allowing the treasure hunter an exhale of relief. She made for the other side of the camp where she drew her rapier and disappeared into the foliage with her group in tow, all smudges of red against green. 

"You heard the cap'n," Adeline called out to the crew who were left. "Keep on searchin'."

She tucked the dagger into her belt beside her own cutlass. Poppy eyed the prize that was so maddeningly within her reach. Her hands reached down and fluttered through the underbrush for a moment before her fingertips grazed the smooth surface of a rock that was just big enough for the plan she'd hastily concocted. It was risky, but she had to do something if she was going to salvage the botched job. She couldn't afford to go home empty handed that time.

Poppy waited for a while, watching the crew members mill about until they all were distracted enough or looking away from where she hid. Then, with no hesitation, she threw the small rock with enough force that it hit the heel of the Highlander's boot. The woman spun in an instant and looked around. During her confused shuffling, Poppy stood and stepped behind the nearest bush, purposefully shuffling her own feet in a noisy crunch of leaves. When her target's head snapped up at the sounds, Poppy unsheathed one of her daggers. 

Adeline was motionless as she stared into the thicket. She glanced over her shoulder at the camp, but stepped forward without raising the alarm. The tall, imposing woman pushed through the curtain of foliage to poke her head into the thicket. A glare sharpened her already angular features as she looked around. Not satisfied that her inspection bore no fruit, she stepped all the way through into the swaths of shadow where her doom awaited her. Poppy's grip on her dagger tightened. Her heart thundered in her ears as she sprung from her hiding spot, quick as a bolt of lightning. 

The treasure hunter gave the pirate a rough shove between the shoulder blades, causing her to stumble forward and lose her footing on the uneven ground. Before she could cry out, Poppy spun her dagger around and jammed the pommel against the back of the other woman's head with enough force to make her go limp. Adeline fell with a soft thud and Poppy waited, hovering over her prone form as she listened for any signs that her crewmates had heard.

No voices or footsteps ever came. Poppy grinned to herself in a rush of adrenaline, mad as a coeurl who'd caught a hare. It seemed that the tides had turned in her favor.

"Sleep tight, lass," the treasure hunter whispered as she knelt and patted the pirate's head. "Didn't hit you too hard, so you should just wake up with a nasty headache. But not too soon now, you hear?"

Poppy didn't plan on being around for long enough to find out when she'd rouse. She swiped the dagger from Adeline's belt and sheathed her own before she stood and fled the scene as fast as stealth would allow. It wasn't until she reached the edge of the beach that Poppy stopped to catch her breath. The dagger was heavy and cold and real in her hand—and also very much _hers_. She grinned again and held her prize up to admire it between breaths. 

It was a slim, silver thing that was almost unassuming at first glance. Only a faint patina on the metal and the worn leather of the hilt suggested its age. The sheath was studded with tiny red gems nestled among filigree lines of gold and hid an equally beautiful blade underneath that was covered in elaborate etchings that depicted a swirling floral pattern. Mistbeard's Barb was truly a sight to behold, though it was hard to believe the grizzled old pirate ever wielded such an elegant thing. It was no wonder her Syndicate contact coveted it for his sordid collection of stolen relics. Though, if the stakes weren't so high, she'd pocket it for herself.

Poppy replaced the sheath to snap herself from the spell the pretty dagger had on her, knowing that she really couldn't afford to be tempted. She lifted her shirt and tucked it into the waistband of her pantalettes for safekeeping, wincing at the sensation of cold metal on skin. The treasure hunter then pushed through the thicket to emerge onto the beach, only to be greeted by a sight that made her freeze up in surprise. 

A handful of women in red stood only a few yalms away near the row of skiffs. One of them toed at her smaller boat next to the others, tilting her head and looking puzzled. In the time it took Poppy to slip behind the slim trunk of the nearest palm, she'd managed to piece together that the skiffs didn't belong to the bandits after all. The Twelve were _really_ testing her with all the back and forth luck.

She scanned the beach, racking her brain for some sort of escape plan. If those skiffs belonged to the pirates, then the bandits likely hid theirs somewhere else. All she had to do was make her way back through the thicket, circle around the edge of the island until she found one, and then—

"You!" 

A deep, angry, and very much loud voice startled Poppy halfway out of her skin. Her head snapped back to look over her shoulder and see an extremely annoyed looking Highlander burst through the brush while rubbing the back of her head. It seemed that she hadn't hit the other woman hard enough after all.

Poppy and Adeline stared at one another for several breathless and motionless moments. The treasure hunter looked back towards the skiffs only to see that the others had heard their mate's outburst and looked to her in varying shades of confusion. 

"She's got the dagger!" Adeline yelled from behind her. 

The expressions of the crew shifted to anger in less than a breath. It was quite a predicament she found herself in, pincered between several irate pirates. In the split second before she ran, Poppy marveled at how quickly things had manged to nosedive. She sped off to the side and ran as fast as her legs would take her, which was faster than any of women who gave chase. Hailing from Thanalan gave her the lucky advantage of knowing how to effectively flit across the sand.

She thought for a moment to dive back into the thicket in order to shake off her pursuants, but didn't get very far before the sand at her feet turned to rock and jagged spikes rose before her in a menacing stony bramble. Poppy skidded to a halt before the outcrop of boulders and spires that blocked her path. 

"Hand over the dagger and I won't skin ye alive where ye stand," a voice yelled. 

Poppy spun around to face Adeline, who stopped a handful of fulms away, panting as the rest of the group caught up. 

"Dagger? I don't know anything about a dagger," Poppy replied with feigned innocence. She crossed her arms in a calm, uncaring way, having barely broken a sweat. 

"Cut the shite. Yer wearin' my patience thin," Adeline barked out. She took a step forward to jut her finger in Poppy's direction while the others pressed in behind her. "Ye knocked me out 'n lifted it, ye little _thief_!"

The treasure hunter stood her ground and clicked her tongue in an audible _tsk_. "Can't a girl have a nice moonlit run on the beach without people making assumptions about her?" She eyed the pirates with a delirious sort of nervousness, but still managed a sneer. "It's not _my_ fault you lose things by napping on the job." 

Adeline nearly snarled at that and reached for her sword. The jab had struck a nerve, but Poppy wasn't sure if that was the best outcome for her.

"On second thought, I think I do know something about a dagger. Two of them, actually," she called out. Not to be outdone, she unsheathed her own blades, tail lashing behind her in warning.

Tension crackled between her and the pirates. Poppy looked them all over, seeing six armed women who didn't look too pleased with her. The odds weren't stacked in her favor by any means, but there was no choice. If she wanted to claim her prize, she'd have to fight for it.

"Come have a taste if you want it so bad," she taunted and sneered madly at the group to bare her fangs.

She took a fearless step forward with a dagger extended. To her surprise, the pirates all backed away. Had she not been so caught up in her attempt at intimidation, perhaps she would have noticed how Adeline had glanced behind her or heard the sound of boots on stone at her heel. Unfortunately for Poppy, she didn't realize a damn thing until it was too late.

Arms bound in red sleeves reached around her until strong hands snatched both her wrists. The Miqo'te yelped in surprise when her daggers clattered to the ground and her arms were pulled behind her back. 

"What have we here? A stray thief come to retrieve her crew's lost bounty?" 

The voice came from above her. A single hand gripped both her wrists, holding her in place as the taller woman leaned forward to press herself against her back. Poppy's blood went cold when the scent of roses hit her nose. She chanced a glance to the side only to see a pointed blue gaze stare back at her from beneath the rim of a red tricorne bearing the namesake bloom, only ilms away from her cheek. The Wild Rose of the Rhotano held Poppy in her thorny grasp.

"This...this thievin' bandit whacked me 'n tried to run off with the dagger," Adeline said, glaring at Poppy as she rubbed the back of her head. "I say we cut her apart," she added. Something dark and vengeful edged her tone.

Suddenly, more pirates seemed to come from thin air, emerging from behind the rocks to rejoin their mates. The other Miqo'te from before rushed towards Adeline and grasped the taller woman's arm with obvious concern. She exchanged a surprisingly warm look with the Highlander that spoke something beyond words before she flashed the treasure hunter a harsh glare.

With the whole crew of fifteen or so sprawled before her and murmuring among themselves in agreement with Adeline as they eyed her up, Poppy felt panic set in. She struggled against her captor, but the other woman held tight.

"I'm no bandit, you dolt," she spat out at Adeline, ears flattening at the accusation. "I'm a bloody treasure hunter. One who managed to outsmart you." Seeing the pirate's face go from surprise to rage was worth the rough tug at her wrists that the outburst had earned her.

"Enough," the captain said, close enough that Poppy felt the warmth of her breath against the fur of her ear, which twitched in response. 

When the Elezen's free hand grazed her hip, Poppy stiffened in surprise. Long, calloused fingers brushed against the hem of her shirt before they slipped beneath the dark fabric and splayed across her stomach. The treasure hunter went still and breathless as the seconds the captain's hand trailed along her bare skin and the edge of her pantalettes dragged on for an eternity. She grasped the hilt of the hidden dagger when she reached it and pulled it free, holding it in front of Poppy's face.

"A thief is a thief no matter what title she goes by," the captain said, words smooth and smug as if she'd just caught a mouse in a trap.

She moved the dagger from view, likely to tuck it away for safekeeping. Poppy dared not look at the taller woman whose face still hovered near hers. Her own face was flushed and warm with...something. Something confusing and not terribly unpleasant, she realized.

"That's rich coming from a _pirate_ ," she managed to hiss out. The crew stirred before her, clearly not too keen on her tone. 

"Gut her, captain," Thalia spoke up, still hanging from her partner's arm, ears flat against her head. 

"I say we leave her here to rot," a Roegadyn from the back of the group added. "Let the Yellowjackets sort her out when they come to round up the bandits."

"Oh, but that's no fun," a Lalafell chimed in. "Let's throw 'er in the water and see how long she can swim for." Poppy didn't at all like the way the short woman eyed her with a mad-looking grin. 

There was more chattering among the crew over ways to deal with the treasure hunter, all of which sounded equally unpleasant. Their captain shifted behind her as she weighed her limitless options. 

"Now, ladies, we needn't be cruel to our guest. It would be remiss of us to be rash in our judgement," she said, voice cutting through the mounting argument. The words somehow didn't offer Poppy any relief as they were lightly mocking in their delivery. "We must needs inquire as to who sent her all this way to _steal_ this dagger, after all."

"To be fair, it was already stolen," Poppy muttered, but the captain paid her little mind. 

"She comes with us," the Elezen announced. The crew muttered their surprise and didn't look too pleased, but no one raised their voice in protest. None but Poppy, of course. 

"Wait a minute, now," she said and wriggled in her captor's grasp again despite knowing it was futile. "What if I don't want to?"

"Then you may choose a different option from the ones so graciously suggested by my crew." When Poppy went silent and limp in her grasp, the captain continued with an order, "Lark, come collect out guest's weapons and take her in your boat. The rest of you to your own skiffs. _The Thorn_  awaits us. We're done here."

As the crew slowly scattered to make their way back down the beach, the Roegadyn who'd spoken up before came forward. The Hellsguard towered nearly four heads taller than Poppy, scowling down at her from beneath a mess of dark, windswept waves that contrasted against ruddy skin.

The captain let Poppy go and gave her a shove towards her apparent jailer. Wordlessly, she stepped around them, offering nothing else besides a last glance tossed over her shoulder that fell coolly from beneath snowy lashes. The look sent a jolt through her that made the treasure hunter's knees go weak. 

"Got anything else sharp on ya?" the woman apparently named Lark asked. She bent over to retrieve Poppy's long-fallen daggers and shot her a look of suspicion.

"No," she replied and rubbed her sore wrists. 

The Roegadyn grunted in disbelief and held a hand out. Poppy finally looked up at her, sighing as she rolled her eyes. The treasure hunter unhooked several throwing knives from under her belt and pulled a few more from the insides of her tall boots. She handed them all to Lark, who then held an almost comical looking pile of tiny blades in her large palm.

"Come on," Lark said, jerking her head towards the shore. Seeing Poppy's reluctance, she gave the Miqo'te a shove and kept a firm grip on her shoulder to guide her. "Count yourself lucky that the captain's so forgiving, little thief."

"Am I _really_ so lucky?" Poppy shot back. Her eyes were drawn to the captain who sauntered ahead of them. Lark snorted in reply.

"Only time will tell." 

Sea water lapped happily at Poppy's feet as she was marched down the shore, still ignorant of her plight. It was a shame that water in her boots was the least of her worries then.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have nothing to say for myself except: oops! my hand slipped and i accidentally wrote some very wordy porn! it's silly but i wanted to write it and so i did as a little project for femslash february. gay pirates ahoy. let me know what you think so far.  
> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿


	2. the thorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (this was originally the second half of the first chapter. i split it up to make each one not so ridiculously long. new stuff will start in chapter 3.)

Less than half bell later, Poppy found herself drifting across the sea on a skiff. Her only consolation in the shite situation was that she didn't have to row that time.

The ride was a tense and silent one, during which the treasure hunter gazed out at the sea both to avoid her jailer's pointed glare—which she likely earned for not doing any rowing—and to try to come up with some sort of plan. Thoughts raced in her mind, circling one another like wild, rabid dogs in a desperate attempt to come up with _something_. She didn't know what the captain had planned for her, but doubted it was anything pleasant if the suggestions of her crew were anything to go by. However, her frantic musing was soon interrupted when she caught sight of a large, looming silhouette visible through the fog.

They'd arrived at the crew's ship. It was smaller than those she'd often seen docked in Limsa's harbor, but grand all the same. Dark, polished wood made up its frame and held up masts that stretched into the night sky like tall stems, on which blood red sails were draped, curled like petals in their disuse. It was a fitting vessel for a group who took on the name of the rose.

The skiff was hoisted up the side of the ship and Poppy soon found herself face to face with quite a few pirates. The full crew numbered close to thirty, by her haphazard count. Poppy stood as Lark jumped onto the deck, but hesitated in the skiff, reluctant to step out.

"Well, come on. Haven't got all night," Lark grumbled irritably. The Roegadyn grabbed Poppy by the arm and yanked her onto the deck. As soon as she set foot onboard, whispers curled around her ears like the fog that thickened the night air.

"What's this, then?"

"Looks like the cap'n found a new plaything."

"Ha, not a chance!"

"New recruit?"

"Nah, just a thief."

"She took down Adeline all on her own."

"That runt? I don't believe it!"

The treasure hunter stared down all who looked her way, tail flicking behind her with annoyance. She didn't appreciate being made into a spectacle, but Lark's firm grip on her shoulder didn't leave her with much of a choice but to endure the attention.

On the opposite side of the ship, she noticed the captain climb aboard among the others who'd been on the island. The crew parted for her as she crossed the deck in quick, measured steps. Despite how the look the captain shot her betrayed no emotion, it still gave Poppy a jolt not unlike what she felt on the beach. Her eyes only left Poppy's when she turned her gaze to the gathered crew.

"That's enough gawping for now, ladies. To your stations."

The Elezen's announcement was loud enough to cut through the chatter and spur the group into action. The crew scattered, though some were slow to move and many cast final glances at Poppy, all ranging from distrustful to curious.

"Lark, with me. Bring our guest."

The captain made her way up the stairs that led to the upper deck, where Lark urged her to follow. She climbed the steps after her, and Poppy soon found herself near the helm of the ship that was manned by another Roegadyn. She looked older than Lark just from her wizened gaze alone, which was the same stormy blue as the sea that she'd likely glimpsed every ilm of.

Lark released her and gave her a shove towards the captain and who was likely her quartermaster. Finally free from the painful grasp, Poppy rolled her stiff shoulders, though not without shooting her jailer a glare at the rough treatment. The other woman paid her little mind, standing back to cross her arms and bar the way back down.

"Welcome back aboard, Captain Alisaie. _The Thorn's_ just as she was 'fore you left," the quartermaster said, nodding to the Elezen in greeting.

Poppy looked forward again when her ears perked up with surprise. Despite how obvious it was that she would have a name, it was still strange knowing the famed pirate had one. It somehow made her more mortal and not just a figment of a rumor or a story as Poppy had once thought her to be. 

The other Roegadyn gave Lark a quick nod of acknowledgement before her gaze sank down to Poppy. "What's this? Taken in another stray, have you?" she asked. The question was almost teasing, to which the captain exhaled a weary sounding breath.

"Thank you, Ankaswys. And no, I've found a _thief—_ one bold enough to try and take the blade right from under our noses. She managed to disarm Adeline and run off with it a ways before we caught her."

Ankaswys let out a soft whistle of surprise. "Goin' after old Mistbeard's Barb, are you? Bold's right." She looked Poppy over with open interest, sounding a bit impressed.

"Look, I'm no stray or bloody thief. The name's Poppy," she said, very much tired of being referred to as anything but. "I _told_ you I'm a treasure hunter," she added with a pointed glance at the captain.

"Well, you've certainly hunted yourself a fine treasure, Poppy," the captain said. Those harsh eyes were back on her and her name was spoken with equal harshness, as if she didn't like how it felt on her tongue. "You do realize that this is a treasured relic belonging to Limsa Lominsa, don't you?"

"Of course I know what it is. That's why I'm after it," Poppy replied tersely, as if it were the most obvious statement imaginable. She was even tempted to roll her eyes. "I was going get paid a pretty gil for it too," she muttered more to herself.

She frowned and crossed her arms to try and shield herself from the thoughts that pricked her like nettles. Everyone involved in her little arrangement wasn't going to be too pleased if they found out she'd failed. Captain Alisaie watched her with guarded interest.

"Is that so? And who was it that sent you?" she asked. The attempt at subterfuge snapped Poppy from her momentary worries.

"Can't just give out my clients' information. That's bad business," Poppy said. A secretive little smile tugged at her mouth and she tilted her head when an idea came to her. "Though...maybe we can work out a deal? You give me the dagger, I divvy up the earnings between us—something like that," she added with a lilting note of hope and looked to gauge the captain's interest. Unfortunately for her, the Elezen didn't look very convinced.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. The Admiral has hired us to ensure its safe return."

The answer put a wrinkle in Poppy's brow. She couldn't fathom why someone like the captain would be so...upright in such matters. It didn't make a lick of sense to her.

"Why do you give a damn about it belonging to Limsa?" she asked, venting her frustrated confusion. "You're the Wild Rose of the Rhotano—the ruthless pirate captain who'll gut a man just for looking at her wrong." She noticed the captain's brow quirk and reigned in the sliver of fear she caught in her tone before she continued, "Isn't piracy _illegal_ there anyways?"

Ankaswys chose to speak up with an answer. "Aye lass, it is. That's why we prefer the term privateer nowadays. Plunder, loot, steal—don't matter as long as it's from the right folks and in Limsa's best interest. Or Garleans, but they're free game." She winked at Poppy as if they shared in a little joke, who scrunched up her nose in response. Seeing her expression, Captain Alisaie chose to speak next:

"All that aside, I don't parlay with petty thieves. Handing over a criminal who has contacts within the black market, however, is sure to line our coffers well."

The captain's expression shifted to a smirk that betrayed her previous stoic demeanor. She lifted her head to gaze at Poppy from beneath long, pale lashes that made her look cold and almost cruel. The treasure hunter felt her annoyance flicker into anger at the sight. 

"You're no better than me just because you're on the Admiral's leash." The words were sharp little knives edged in venom. She paused to sneer before repeating the captain's own earlier words, "A thief's a thief no matter the title."

There was a breath of silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, heavy with the fog around them. The captain's gaze grew more pointed as seconds crept past.

"Sharp tongue on this one," Ankaswys said quietly to break the stalemate, sounding amused. The captain didn't seem to share her levity.

Poppy only began to regret her words when she saw the Elezen close the space between them in less than a handful of strides and heard her footfalls echo off the wood of the deck in a loud, purposeful way. She stood before Poppy in an instant and before she could react, the captain had slipped a finger beneath the striped scarf tied around her neck to give it a harsh tug. 

"She had better hold that tongue, lest I cut it out."

The quiet statement was as much of a warning as a whisper could be. Poppy found herself pressed against the taller woman, forced to stare up at the steely eyes that bore a hole right through her. Despite the severity of the situation, the treasure hunter found both her gaze and her mind wandering.

The captain's face was soft despite the harshness of her expression and her upturned nose gave her the air of an aristocrat rather than a pirate. The hair that poked out from beneath her hat and tumbled over her shoulder in a loose braid was pure white, almost shockingly so. If Poppy were feeling poetic—which she always was—she would say it was spun from the very same moonlight that fell upon her and outlined her in its hazy glow. She would have said so out loud, perhaps, had she been attempting to make a maiden at a tavern swoon. However, the imposing woman who stood before her was no blushing maid, but a pirate, and could easily eviscerate her if she so pleased. Poppy felt a thrill pass through her at the thought, but realized it wasn't wholly unpleasant.

"You live up to your reputation, captain. All thorns," she murmured through her haze. The light scent of roses between them was intoxicating, urging her to lean into the touch of her captor, and made it hard to process her next words before she spoke them, "Wasn't expecting the name, though. _Alisaie_. Too pretty for a pirate."

The captain stared down at her for a moment, guarded and cold. Her eyes crinkled with disbelief, but Poppy caught a fraction of a smile grace her rosy lips before she scoffed. 

"The same could be said for you, _Poppy_. Such a florid name does not befit someone no better than a bandit."

The spell she was under was broken when the other woman let her go and stepped back. She turned towards the helm, and Poppy saw the dagger glint on her belt just a maddening fulm away from her grasp. It was tempting to reach for it, but Poppy valued her hands too much to act on the urge.

"Ankaswys, how long will it take to reach Limsa?" Captain Alisaie asked.

"The water 'round the Isles is a mess as is and the fog isn't helpin' much." The quartermaster leaned back on her heels and tilted her head in consideration. "'Bout three days, I reckon."

The captain nodded then looked back at Lark, who'd been standing silently behind Poppy all the while.

"Lark, take our guest to the proper accommodations. I'll decide what to do with her later." Poppy was given a final searing glance, then nothing more. The captain's back was to her as she faced the helm. "We sail at dawn."

Poppy felt an iron-like grip back on her shoulder that she was growing far too familiar with. She went willingly without a word that time, knowing in her silence that the captain had won that bout. Still, as she was lead down the stairs and towards the lower decks, she was content in knowing that her flattery had managed to save her from a worse fate, at least for the time being.

She turned her thoughts towards the fact that she had three days to think of a way to nab the dagger and make her timely escape.


	3. caged

A weak beam of sunlight was what roused Poppy from her fitful slumber. It could hardly be called slumber, really, with how she jerked awake what felt like every few minutes from the ship's incessant rocking. It was a miracle that she got any sleep at all and another miracle that she hadn't thrown her guts up in her bleary, sleep-deprived agony. 

Still, she woke with a groan, and was faced with one more miraculous occurrence: the fact that any light at all was able to shine into the storage closet from the tiny porthole on the wall. That bit of light was somehow what pushed her over the edge and made her realize that she'd love nothing more than to complain to her captors about the quality of the supposed _proper accommodations_ she found herself in. She likely would have too, had she not been locked in the room and had her captors not been uncaring pirates. 

Poppy managed to stand from where she'd been curled up on the floor between two barrels, feeling every muscle protest the movement and every bone crack from disuse. She was getting too godsdamed old to play at being some stowaway. The bedraggled Miqo'te rubbed her face both in an attempt to push the exhaustion that wrought her body away and to hide from the musty odor that permeated the stale air in the tiny space. When the ship lurched again, she lurched with it and bumped into the crate that sat before her, nearly tumbling over it.

The treasure hunter groaned again, feeling almost miserable enough to wish that the captain had just gutted her on that beach so she wouldn't have to deal with the absolute torment that was sea travel. She was nauseous and sore and thirsty and—

A sudden knock on the door made Poppy's parade of self pity come to an abrupt halt. She went rigid for a moment before she scrambled to pull herself onto the wooden surface of the crate she leaned on. After a few seconds of silence, another knock came. 

"Hope you're decent in there," a voice called from behind the door, causing Poppy's ears to perk up. It sounded familiar in it's biting irritation, though she wasn't sure if that familiarity was welcome. "I've got some breakfast for you. Not that you deserve it or nothin'."

There was the distinct click of a key in lock and then the door swung open to reveal one of the pirates from the beach—the one named Thalia who hadn't seemed too pleased with Poppy for knocking her partner out. She held a tankard in one hand and a plate in the other that looked to have bits of bread piled on it. 

The other Miqo'te eyed her with suspicion from beneath a mousy fringe that poked out under the red bandanna tied around her head. When she realized the treasure hunter was crouched atop the crate like an agitated coeurl ready to pounce, she looked just a bit alarmed. In a split second of delirious decision-making, pounce Poppy did.

Seeing an opportunity for escape, she sprang forward and grabbed the pirate by the elbow, yanking her into the closet with enough force to make the other woman squeak in surprise and drop her offerings. The treasure hunter almost felt rueful when her meal hit the floor in a loud clatter, but didn't have time to think about it for too long. She jumped behind Thalia and grabbed the cutlass hooked onto her belt before she gave her a shove that sent the her tumbling over the crate. 

"Apologies, lass," Poppy said as she stepped back and out of the closet. "But you'd be riled up too if you had to spend the night in _there_."

Sword in hand, the treasure hunter slammed the door in the pirate's face before she could lurch forward to stop her. She turned the key just as the other Miqo'te began to bang her fists on the wood and yell an assortment of obscenities. Poppy didn't stay around for long enough to decipher exactly what she said.

She tore through the underbelly of the ship with all the reckless abandon of a caged creature who longed for freedom. There was little plan-making that occurred during her escape aside from _get out of this dark, dingy hellhole, and fast_. Her only solace, surprisingly enough, was that no pirates were about to stop her.

Her weary legs soon took her up a set of stairs and through another door where a salt-tinged breeze and bright sky greeted her on the other side. Poppy sucked in a deep breath in appreciation of the fresh air, but her relief was rather short-lived once she realized she'd emerged right onto the main deck of the ship. What looked to be the whole crew made their rounds inspecting sails and tying ropes and whatever the hells else it was that pirates occupied themselves with. Her mind reeled in panic, but she hoped they were too busy to pay attention to her. It took exactly one step back in an attempt to retreat behind the door before she was noticed.

"Hey!"

Poppy's head snapped to the side where an Auri woman holding an armful of rope gawped at her and the cutlass she held, mouth agape. Her pale scales shimmered under the morning light, serpentine tail twitching behind her like a string of pearls in obvious nervousness. 

"You're not supposed to be up here!" 

Before Poppy could move to silence the noisy Au Ra, she heard what sounded like an enraged screech advance up the stairs behind her. The hellish sound was quickly followed by a body crashing into her. The force of the impact sent her and her assailant both flying, where they ended up in a jumbled heap at the center of the deck. If the Auri pirate's exclamation hadn't raised the alarm, _that_ surely did.

Poppy soon found herself surrounded by a ring of confused, shouting pirates. However, she paid them all little mind, given how the one who'd tackled her took up most of her attention with all her thrashing and attempts to wrench the cutlass from her hand.

"Give it back you bloody _thief_!"

Thalia's screeching didn't sound any less angry than before. Poppy somehow managed to hold tight to the sword as they tumbled and rolled around in a desperate clash. Everything was a blur painted by the pale blue of the sky and the dark wood of the ship and the red surrounding her in a wall of encroaching pirates. Despite her disorientation, the treasure hunter managed to elbow her opponent in the gut with enough force to stun her, then roll onto the other Miqo'te. Thalia hissed and sputtered beneath her, clawing at her arms with sharp nails.

"Enough! You all, back off!" 

Poppy held the cutlass high above her head. Every voice was silenced and the surrounding pirates halted their advances. The treasure hunter looked down at Thalia, who had stilled beneath her when she saw her own sword dangle precariously above her head. The moments that followed were filled only with the wild thundering of Poppy's heart as her equally wild eyes darted around the crowd, daring any to approach. 

"What in the Seven Hells is goin' on down there?!" 

The booming voice belonged to none other than the quartermaster, who Poppy saw lean over the railing of the upper deck. The crew remained silent in their dumbfounded stupor, none really knowing how to explain the flash of activity that had taken the ship by surprise like a sudden storm. The Roegadyn's gaze was drawn first to the threatening silver glint of the raised cutlass, then down to the treasure hunter. Her expression shifted from surprise to anger when she saw her crewmate pinned beneath the other Miqo'te's grasp.

"The stray? You're s'posed to be in your cage, not galavantin' about the deck and wrestlin' with my crew," she called out.

If Poppy wasn't so delirious, she would've said that Ankaswys actually sounded a bit impressed. Still, she opened her mouth to make some rather pointed commentary on the accuracy of the word _cage_ , but her jaw snapped shut when the captain emerged from behind the irate Sea Wolf's towering form.   

"Ankaswys, you take the helm. I'll handle this."

The quartermaster hesitated, but relented with a shake of her head. With one final glance at Poppy, she turned away to man the ship while the captain turned her attention to the mess spread out beneath her. The Elezen vaulted over the railing with ease and landed on the deck below with a sharp sort of grace. She carved her way through the gathered crew towards the two Miqo'te, and the look she shot Poppy was all ice.

"Thalia, what has happened here?" she asked, gaze flicking down to the pinned woman. Upon hearing her captain's question, the pirate began to struggle beneath Poppy once more. 

"She lifted my sword and locked me in storage," Thalia spat out, hissing all the while. "Little _snake_ , this one is. After I bothered to bring 'er food, too!" 

"As if I'd just sit tight in that damned closet until you lot decided what to do with me. I had to escape," Poppy shot back. The two of them glared at one another, all bared fangs and lashing tails until the captain's weary sigh broke through their angry stalemate.  

"And what exactly have you gained from your supposed escape?" The captain asked, words stretched thin from impatience. "Look around you, Poppy. You're surrounded."

Her crew murmured around her, likely upon learning the previously unknown treasure hunter's name, who glanced around to find angry looks cast her way from all directions. She looked up to find a pointed gaze wrought with annoyance stare down at her.

"Get off my crewmate and stand down. You've disrupted our morning for long enough. We've a ship to sail here, with or without you on it."

Poppy stared back up at the Elezen. The assured, condescending way she was spoken to—threatened, rather—grated her already frayed nerves. Still, she released Thalia from her grasp and stood, eyes never leaving the cold blue of the captain's. The other Miqo'te scrambled to her feet and held her hand out for her sword, looking both smug and expectant. Poppy held its hilt tight and took a step back. 

"I'm not part of your crew. You can't order me around," she called out. Another plan hit her with all the force of a punch in the gut. It was just as foolhardy as the rest, but Poppy was too desperate to care. "Captain Alisaie, I challenge you to a duel. I win and you give me the dagger and a skiff so you can go ahead and sail your precious ship _without_ me. How about it?" 

The treasure hunter held the stolen cutlass up, pointing it directly at the captain as a mad, defiant grin curled her lips. It was a long shot, but it was all she could think to do in the moment. The crew around her erupted into wild chatter at the absurd proposition.

"You can't be serious, you daft sod," Thalia said, tail lashing behind her with renewed irritation. "As if the captain would—"

"I accept." The Elezen's words made Thalia's jaw snap shut and the crew's chatter get louder. The other Miqo'te whirled around, likely to argue, but the captain held a hand up. "Stand down, Thalia. I'll entertain our guest's whims, if only to teach her a lesson in humility." 

Captain Alisaie took a step forward, head bowed. Poppy saw a subtle smirk bloom across her lips beneath the rim of her vibrant tricorne, as if the whole situation had her secretly amused.

"Though, if _I_ happen to win this wager, you'll be scrubbing every ilm of this ship and doing every little job my girls think up until we reach Limsa, at which point you'll be handed over to the Yellowjackets—all without complaint on your part." The captain drew the long, menacing rapier from its place on her belt to mirror Poppy's defiant stance. The blade filled the space between them with a shimmer of pink light. "Do we have an agreement?"

Poppy pondered over the terms. She had a lot to lose, but she was always one to gamble, no matter how risky. Her grin grew as her grip on the cutlass tightened.

"High stakes, but I'd expect no less from a pirate. Agreed."

The murmur around them took on an excited edge. The captain held an arm out and the group did as they were wordlessly told, voices turning to rowdy laughter and cheers when they gave the two women room. Even Thalia sneered at her as she slunk past, pausing only to whisper:

"Hope you enjoy bein' cut to pieces."

Poppy offered her little more than a roll of her eyes before her attention returned to Captain Alisaie. The other woman held her ground, stance almost inviting. Poppy watched her warily and waited for her to act.

"Come, have a taste of my blade if you're so willing."

It was only then that the pirate's stoic expression turned smug. With the crew spread all around her in a ring of jeers and sneering, it was all enough to spur Poppy into accepting the invitation, no matter how baited it was. There was nothing she hated more than not being taken seriously.

The first clash of steel rang out across the deck, prompting a cheer to follow. Despite her speed, the captain had parried the blow with relative ease and pushed Poppy back to put her on guard. She and the taller woman began to circle one another.

"Is that all? You'll have to be quicker than that," the captain said, eyes alight with fire.

It was little more than a taunt, but it still set Poppy's nerves on edge. Her exhaustion was pushed to the back of her mind so she could focus instead on the way Captain Alisaie looked at her over the edge of her blade, calculating and patient. She was playing the defensive, and Poppy intended to break through those walls to tear her down.

"Waiting for me to do all the work? Thought you'd have more bite than that, captain."

Poppy stopped her circling and sprang forward, pushing with enough strength to bring herself close. With her own jab delivered and their blades pressed together, a flicker of surprise crossed the taller woman's face. She stepped backwards to put space between them again, but the treasure hunter was relentless in her pursuit, following after the Elezen until their parries and feints became a dance of clashing metal. 

Captain Alisaie met her blow for blow with unexpected grace. Her movements were delivered with the precise flourish of a master fencer rather than a pirate and Poppy couldn't help but be captivated by the flashes of red and pink that countered her. That open interest, perhaps, was her first mistake. 

The captain eventually stepped back far enough to make Poppy stumble forward in her persistent chase after her, just enough that the misstep would change the momentum of the duel out of her favor. A switch had been flipped and the taller woman was suddenly relentless in her charge. Her defensive hand turned to a far more direct approach that pushed the already weary Miqo'te back in turn. 

"And where has _your_ bite gone? Have I ground down your teeth already?"

Poppy's heart pounded in her ears and pulsed in her hands as she held the cutlass over her head in an attempt to block a sudden blow from above. Captain Alisaie loomed over her, all fire in her words, pushing down with all her weight. Poppy gritted her teeth and stood her ground, though her arms quivered and burned from tension that could snap a bowstring. When she met the pirate's steely, unyielding gaze—so close that she could see the rings of grey around her pupils—she already knew she'd lost.

Poppy's strength gave out. With an expert flick of the captain's rapier, the cutlass was yanked from her grasp and arced in the air for a breathless moment before it fell to the deck beside them with a metallic thud. After the sound passed, the crew howled their boisterous applause. Their admiration for their captain was plain on all their faces.

"It seems that you've lost," she said and took a step back to raise her rapier. The tip was pointed directly at Poppy's throat. "Do you yield?"

The treasure hunter could only heave several laborious breaths. Pain stabbed her lungs like she'd just gulped in a mouthful of sea water, but she still managed to glare at the other woman. Her pride was too wounded for her to reply.

Her silence prompted the captain to step forward until the sharpened edge of her blade pressed against Poppy's pulse with just enough force to be considered a warning. The sensation did little to calm her thundering heart or quiet the cheers of the pirates who closed in around her. They likely wouldn't be sated until their leader spilled her blood. For a fraction of a second, Poppy thought that was the end for her.

"Aye. I yield," she muttered, but lifted her jaw in defiance, almost inviting the blade closer to her exposed throat to finish the job.

Captain Alisaie stared her down for a moment that felt eternal in all its intensity. Poppy swore she saw a flicker of...something cross her face—be it interest or pity or something else entirely, the treasure hunter didn't know. Eventually, the pirate lifted her free hand to silence the crew. 

"That's enough excitement for one morning. Everyone back to your posts." The captain dropped the rapier from Poppy's neck to hook it back onto her belt. Upon hearing the others' grumbles, she added, "But don't forget that you'll have an extra pair of hands to assist you in your duties. I expect you all to utilize our guest to her fullest potential."

Without the sharpness of a sword at her throat, the incessant nausea that always plagued Poppy at sea caught up to her and made her fall to her knees in a miserable heap. The voices of the dispersed crew made her head ache and she rubbed her temples in an attempt to push the pain away.

The reality of her failure settled around her. Not only was she daggerless, but she had to do menial chores on top of everything. The treasure hunter was wrought with bitter annoyance at how her situation seemed to get progressively worse. It was only when she sensed the captain approach that she was snapped from her stupor.

The taller woman knelt before her, so close that their knees were pressed together. Poppy looked up to see Captain Alisaie's face hover mere ilms from hers, closer than she'd ever been before. Her snowy lashes flickered while she considered the Miqo'te, eyes half-lidded in thought. There certainly was _something_ there, but Poppy still couldn't place what it was.

When the pirate grabbed a fistful of Poppy's shirt and leaned forward, the treasure hunter wasn't sure what she expected to happen next. Though, there was an unbidden, nagging desire lurking at the very back of her mind to know how the rosy lips so maddeningly close to hers would taste. 

"Pull a stunt like that again and next time my hand may not be so merciful."

Their cheeks were pressed together in a way that felt oddly gentle and intimate. The words were whispered near Poppy's flattened ear, where the warmth of them grazed against her neck, causing gooseflesh to prickle her skin. The treasure hunter felt as though she'd just heard a litany of sweet nothings, despite it being a threat.

With her piece being said, the captain stood and yanked a stunned Poppy up with her. She gazed down at the Miqo'te for a moment, cold and impassive as before, all fire gone from her eyes and gentleness gone from her touch. She looked past her to a pirate who stood nearby winding loose rope around her arms. It was the very same Raen woman who'd been the first to spot Poppy. 

"Ajisai, come show our guest how she can be helpful. Make sure she behaves herself." Captain Alisaie gave her a shove towards the other woman who looked just as bewildered as she felt. 

"A-aye, captain!" Ajisai replied, nearly dropping the neatly coiled rope she held.

Poppy cast a glance over her shoulder only to see the captain already halfway across the deck and heading towards the helm on the upper level. She was gone again, leaving Poppy confused and reeling, just as before. She turned back to her new jailer, who seemed as reluctant to deal with the rowdy Miqo'te as she was to be put to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've realized my writing workflow has been needlessly stressful with how much i try to cram into one chapter, so i decided to split up each scene i have planned out into its own. the burn might be a bit slower, but i should be able to post more often in the long run! it'll at least be easier to edit without having to look at a 7k wall of text every time lol.


	4. unexpected

Poppy's hands were worn raw enough to sting. As it turned out, the captain hadn't been bluffing about having her scrub every godsdamned ilm of the ship. Each press of fingertips to wood was a reminder of that fact, causing pinpricks of pain that made her wince. Still, she pressed on and continued to rummage through the seemingly empty crate. Whether it was to sate her boredom or find something that might come in handy, she wasn't sure. Either way, there was little else to do in her tiny prison besides poke around.

When something metallic hit her hand, she felt a flash of excitement and hoped that it would be something sharp and pointy enough to use as a weapon. That excitement died almost as soon as it came when Poppy pulled the small thing out only to see that it was nothing more than a rusted nail. She sighed and let it roll from her grasp to fall onto the planks of the floor with a soft thud. Utterly useless.

Poppy continued to sift through the crate, if only to soothe her irritation. The wan moonlight that filtered in through the porthole above illuminated little else aside from loose hay. It had been the same with the few other crates and barrels in the storeroom, which she'd already looked through to find that all was empty or bolted shut. Much to the treasure hunter's disappointment, it seemed that would be the case again.

Her hand soon hit the bottom of the crate, but her thoroughness was rewarded when her fingers brushed against the distinctly smooth surface of something made of glass. She grasped at it and pulled the object from the cocoon of hay to see that her prize was, surprisingly enough, what looked to be an unopened bottle of whiskey. Poppy knew little about the quality of spirits, but whistled her appreciation all the same at the sight of liquid that shimmered a pretty amber color in the dim light.

"Gods, what a sorry sight this is," Poppy muttered to herself in amusement as she placed the bottle down beside the discarded nail. It was hardly a useful bounty to aid in her escape. "'Least I can drink myself into a stupor," she added with a scoff.

Poppy plopped down on the floor and leaned back against the crate to let out a frustrated sigh. Though the arduous day settled into every muscle of her body, she still wasn't sure if she could sleep. Another night spent on the cold, hard floor wouldn't be pleasant. She reached for the bottle, but her hand found the nail instead. Her fingers settled on the rusted surface and toyed with it as she puzzled over her predicament.

The pirates she faced were a jolly little crew, happy as clams and even happier to dump all their most hated chores on her. Singing little shanties, joking and laughing as they went about their tasks—the ones that didn't include cleaning, that is, because pirates apparently hated cleaning. They weren't at all what the treasure hunter had expected. She'd imagined that the Wild Rose's crew would be a grizzled and angry lot, or at least a bit more serious given their reputation and the rumors.

It was... odd, to say the least. For a group of women who were supposedly either vicious criminals or kidnapped and forced into piracy, they certainly didn't act the part. And the captain herself—she was an enigma. Poppy thought of those steely eyes and the sword at her throat, then of their cheeks pressed together and the soft whisper against her ear. It was a confusing jumble of feelings that made her face flush despite how her mind protested.

Poppy let her head roll back against the crate, brows drawn together in deep thought while she rubbed her face with her free hand. She couldn't let the captain get into her head. The nail rolled beneath her fingertips, clicking softly against rough grains of wood as Poppy simmered in her irritation. Something about the sound gave her a curious idea. 

The treasure hunter's hand froze and she lurched forward towards the door with sudden urgency, nail in hand. She pressed an ear against the wood and listened; all was still aside for the usual creaks and groans that a ship made. Poppy kept the ear to the door and slipped the nail into the keyhole. It was just slim enough to fit and hopefully long enough to get the job done. She listened to soft clicks as she worked at the mechanism with a delicate hand and eventually her precision was rewarded with a final, louder click. A turn of the knob confirmed that she'd managed to pick the lock. 

"Can't keep me caged for long," Poppy muttered to herself, nearly purring in all her smug satisfaction.

She tucked the nail into her pocket for safekeeping before she opened the door a crack to peer outside. The hall that stretched before her was dark and empty. Poppy slipped into its cloaking shadows with silent ease, pausing only to close the door behind her as quietly as possible.

Unlike earlier in the day, she didn't rush through the underbelly of the ship with reckless abandon. She crept quietly despite her biting impatience, taking her time as she retraced her steps to find the stairway she knew would take her to the main deck. By the time Poppy reached the door, she felt like half a century had passed. She managed to open it just enough to slip through the crack and leaned back as it closed behind her. Then, with bated breath, she waited and observed.

The fog was thick. Despite the bright glow of the moon, it was difficult to see more than a few yalms ahead. Poppy remained still and listened for any signs of pirates, but all was silent. The majority of the crew was likely asleep. She took a moment to celebrate her luck before she crouched down and began to make her way to the side of the ship. Though the coast was clear, she couldn't be rash and risk giving herself away to any who might still be awake.

Fog swirled around the treasure hunter as she slunk across the deck. She stopped only when she reached the railing and stood to lean over it. The sea stretched out before her, dark and quiet as it lapped at the sides of the boat with thin sheets of fog that rolled off the inky surface of the water. Only a faint murmur of splashes and the whisper of the sails from where they loomed overhead could be heard. The night was just as eerie as the previous.

Poppy looked to the side to see the handful of skiffs tied up on their pulleys. As long as she was quiet, she could easily hop aboard one of the boats and lower herself to the water below to make a timely escape. She tapped her nails against the railing, wrought with hesitation. While freedom was well within her grasp, she'd have nothing to show for it even if she managed to make her way to dry land. The Syndicate would have her head if she didn't repay her debts. Any semblance of freedom would be very quickly cut short if she couldn't figure out a way to get her hands on that dagger, and fast.

The treasure hunter was so caught up in her panicked scheming that the voice that pierced through the fog behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin. 

"I see that you've managed to escape yet again." 

Poppy whirled around. She wasn't at all surprised to see that is was Captain Alisaie who stood only a yalm or two away, arms crossed and leaning back against a door—the door that likely lead to her own quarters, given its position beneath the upper deck.  

"Tell me, what am I to do with you?" The captain asked. "You're quickly becoming little more than a thorn in my side."

The irritation in her voice and the glare she was given were enough to remind Poppy of the pirate's earlier whispered warning. The memory made her skin prickle with apprehension, but she put on a face braver than what she felt.

"You should be used to thorns, _Wild Rose_ ," Poppy said, uttering the other woman's title with just a hint of mockery.

She leaned back against the railing and crossed her arms, looking as nonchalant as can be despite how admittedly intimated she felt when the captain pushed away from the door to approach her. The taller woman stopped a handful of fulms away and stared.

"I have a feeling that nothing short of slaying you where you stand will keep you contained," Captain Alisaie said. The vitriol in her tone was a clear response to Poppy's prodding.

The pirate placed a hand on her hip and the motion drew Poppy's attention to her belt, where the prized dagger was tucked. It took all her power to not to stare and instead flick her gaze back up to meet the eyes that bore into her.

"You had your chance to do that earlier. Why didn't you?" Poppy asked, voicing her confusion. She almost felt the sword at her throat again and heard the cheering of the crew and swore she saw the captain's face soften a touch, just as it did then. 

"I don't resort to unnecessary violence. You yielded and so I withdrew," she said and shrugged. Poppy stared at her through narrowed eyes, weighing the words in silent disbelief. 

"You're not at all what I expected," she muttered after a moment. 

Captain Alisaie's next question spoke her curiosity, no matter how guarded, "And what was it that you were expecting?"

There was another pause when the captain took a few more steps towards her.

"Don't you know what they say about you? You're ruthless, merciless, cold. A true pirate who steals and loots and spirits women away to fill her ranks."

In the moment after her blurted answer, Poppy was stunned to hear the other woman chuckle.

"Surely you must realize that rumors have a way of twisting the truth."

"So it's all lies?"

"I simply let people think what they want. Having such a reputation rather benefits me, after all," Captain Alisaie shot back and shrugged again, acting if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Though, I will assure you that everyone aboard this ship is here only because they want to be," she said, tone firm. She paused to smirk before adding, "Aside from you, I suppose."

Poppy continued to stare at the captain as she advanced even closer, feeling panic bloom before her eyes found the dagger again. She realized the situation might not be so dire as she thought if the pirate was willing to bring the blade so close. Her mind whirred as she tried to piece together a new plan, but Captain Alisaie was upon her a breath later. She looked down at the treasure hunter and her hands fell against the railing on either side of the shorter woman, effectively boxing her in. 

"Is that why you were so foolish as to not simply escape just now? Are you hoping I'll spirit you away to join my crew?" she asked, tone tinged with confident amusement. 

She leaned down just enough to make the treasure hunter squirm beneath her gaze. Poppy's ears shifted back in quiet contempt at the implication of the questions despite how her face warmed at their newfound closeness.

"Don't flatter yourself, captain," she said, nearly hissing the words. "I'm not some stray for you to take in. I'm still here only because you have something I want."

Captain Alisaie considered her with a tilt of her head. "Is that so? Well, I invite you to take it. If you've the stones to, that is." 

Poppy wasn't sure if it was a challenge or an invitation. Either way, her eyes narrowed to match the pirate's own suspicious gaze. She wasn't fool enough to fall into the trap and grab the dagger then and there. A game was clearly afoot and she needed to act with more finesse than that. A distraction of sorts was needed first.

Poppy's hands brushed against the soft wool of the captain's crimson overcoat. Her fingers traced the hem and gently brushed against each silver button on the way up to where they came to rest on her shoulders. She watched the other woman's face all the while to gauge her interest and caught the barest hint of disbelief cross her features. Her expression shifted then, growing minutely sharper—enough to make the treasure hunter's breath catch for a moment. 

It was a foolish thing she did to act with such ardent boldness, especially when the captain was already cross with her. But Poppy never claimed to be especially clever and always chose the riskiest gambles. That was exactly why she was in her line of work. The biggest risks paid the best rewards, after all, and her current situation was no different. But, seeing the way the captain looked at her—that was something new.

The danger of it all was nearly palpable. She felt like a hare beneath the scrupulous gaze of a hungry hawk and every instinct screamed at her to stop, to pull back while she still could, but she pressed onward still. The sense of precariousness was as heady as the faint florid perfume that always seemed to cling to the Wild Rose.

So, knowing very well that she toyed with her own fate, she grabbed the lapels of Captain Alisaie's coat. Before the taller woman had a chance to react, Poppy smiled a mad little smile and pulled the pirate down so she might finally know how those lips would taste.

She kissed the captain hard, feeling fearless for those handful of seconds. There was sweetness with a light floral note and just a bite of salt at the end; like a sugared rose petal adrift on the sea. The lips against hers were so soft and pliant and yielded beneath her with such ease that Poppy let a little sound slip out in all her surprise. The tiny keen seemed to be what spurred the pirate into action. 

Captain Alisaie pulled away. Poppy felt a hand slide off the railing beside her to instead grip her hip and push her back against the wooden beams behind her. For a terrifying moment, she thought the gamble had not played out in her favor. However, the treasure hunter was stunned to see a smirk pull at the lips that had been on hers only a breath before.

"Is _that_ really what you're after? The heart of a pirate?" The questions were whispered into the space between them, which diminished when Captain Alisaie leaned over to close the gap between their heights again. "That's not something so easily stolen, little thief," she said.

There was a thread of amusement within her tone that made the warning sound more like a challenge. Poppy tilted her head just enough to be coy and looked up at the captain through her lashes, considering the words. Her gaze passed over the dagger tucked into the captain's belt before their eyes met. The glimpse of it reminded her of her goal. 

"There's nothing I can't steal," she murmured in reply, and the whisper warmed the air between them. 

Feeling bold again, she reached up, fingertips grazing the taller woman's cheek before they traced the outline of an elegant, pointed ear, stopping only to toy with the silver earring that hung from it. Captain Alisaie watched her all the while, expression caught between annoyance and interest. 

"That overconfidence will get you killed," the pirate said. Her voice was low, warning, yet somehow still wanting.

"Not dead yet, am I?"

Poppy sneered. Captain Alisaie scoffed. She doubted either of them were surprised when their lips pressed together again.

Poppy somehow knew the events of the last day had been leading to that inevitable moment. After all, she couldn't deny her attraction to the woman who had charmed her with her beauty and sharp tongue and prickly, yet enticing personality. The kiss was not unlike their previous bout, though their mouths were what battled then instead of their swords. The captain's tongue slid past Poppy's parted lips to brush against her own, but the treasure hunter pushed back with enough zeal to rival her opponent.

Her hands gripped the overcoat, tugging the taller woman closer so that the ilms still between them would vanish. Arms wound around the captain's neck, but not before her fingers dragged through snowy locks that were soft as silk and pale as the swaths of fog that cloaked them both. The pirate's deft hand dipped beneath her tunic, where long fingers dragged against bare skin and a thumb played at the hem of her pantalettes, just like they had during their first encounter on the beach. The pleased sound the other woman let slip into her mouth made a satisfying warmth pool in Poppy's gut. 

Feeling Captain Alisaie's eagerness sent a thrill of smugness through Poppy. Her distraction had proved successful—perhaps a bit _too_ successful, she realized. The treasure hunter found it increasingly difficult to focus on the task at hand as the seconds crept past. Though, it was somehow only when the captain braced her knee against the railing behind her by wedging it right between Poppy's legs that she became flustered.

She was truly trapped at that point with no chance of slipping away. She'd fallen right into that snare—a purposeful one at that, given how she felt the captain smirk against her. But Poppy was too lost in the kiss at that point to mind if the pirate had the upper hand. She still managed to fight back with a light nip against the taller woman's lips, dragging her small fangs across them with just enough pressure to be poignant. Not to be outdone, Captain Alisaie responded in turn by lifting her knee just enough to make Poppy whimper. 

The treasure hunter swore internally when her hips moved forward to get closer to that pressure. _Twelve_ , she thought. It was all too damn _good_. Poppy knew that she enjoyed herself far too much for things to just be considered a game anymore. She stubbornly clung to her last scrap of dignity regardless and forced herself to remember what it was that she was after. 

Poppy let a hand slide downwards to slip beneath Captain Alisaie's coat so that she could slowly, ilm by ilm, trail closer to the other woman's belt. Her fingers found the hilt after a moment of gentle fumbling against the pale cotton of her blouse. With a deft and subtle flick of her wrist, the treasure hunter pulled the dagger free of the belt as she kept the pirate occupied with her lips.

Poppy felt a surge of satisfaction when she managed to pull the blade towards herself without notice. All she had to do was tuck it into her boot to hide it and the prize would be won. A hand was on her wrist before she could get very far.

When Captain Alisaie froze, time itself seemed it stop as well. She pulled away in an instant, tugging Poppy's hand up with her. The dagger hovered above her then, glistening silver under the moonlight to highlight her thievery. They both breathed, the sound heavy and rough from their shared kiss. It was all that passed between them for a while.

"Caught me red handed," Poppy murmured and dared to smirk up at the woman who held her in her grasp. The captain didn't look quite so amused, but oddly more disappointed than anything else.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't just throw you overboard here and now."

Poppy glanced over her shoulder at the sea below. Dark, watery arms knocked against the wood of the ship, clawing at it as if to invite her into its depths. She felt the chill of apprehension return, but decided to call the captain's bluff. 

"I s'pose I'd deserve it," she said and paused to flash the other woman a simpering smile that she hoped was charming enough. "But I wouldn't last long down there. I can't swim."

Captain Alisaie stared at her with enough intensity to weigh her very soul. She sighed before her tight grip on the treasure hunter loosened and she stepped back, pulling the dagger from Poppy's grasp and leaving her slumped against the railing. She felt cold in the absence of their closeness, but kicked the thought aside to instead watch the captain tuck the blade back into her belt. Thus her prize was snatched from her yet again.

"Come with me," she said and turned on her heel.

With that, the other woman began to walk across the deck, but Poppy was frozen against the railing for a moment. She cast a rueful glance over her shoulder at the skiffs, knowing full well that her chance for escape had passed. Having no other choice, she begrudgingly pushed past curtains of fog to follow after the captain. 

They went through the same door Poppy had passed earlier to descend back to the lower sections of the ship. Captain Alisaie stayed a few paces ahead all the while, wordlessly retracing the all too familiar steps back to the tiny storage closet. The footfalls of her boots were loud in the otherwise silent gloom as they passed by the galley and the crew's sleeping quarters and larger storerooms filled with supplies. Poppy stared at the other woman's back the whole way, still reeling from the kiss. Her hand unconsciously drifted up to touch her bitten lips and remind herself that the passionate exchange had actually occurred.

When they reached the closet, the captain opened the door and finally turned to look at her, cold and impassive, as if nothing had happened at all. "How did you manage to pick the lock?" she asked.

Poppy was surprised to hear her sound more curious than angry. She hesitated, but pulled the rusty nail from her pocket and dropped it onto the pirate's awaiting palm. She turned it over in her grasp with a shake of her head that could be interpreted as her being impressed, then motioned for Poppy to return to her prison. 

Her ears flicked back at the thought of being locked up again, but complied without complaint, knowing that she'd lost. As she stepped past the pirate, she was surprised when the other woman reached out to grab her hand. Something small and cold was pressed against her palm. The taller woman leaned down to say something in a hushed tone:

"If you manage to slip out again tomorrow night, come find me. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

Poppy looked up. Another challenge had been issued. Something about the way Captain Alisaie smiled suggested it wouldn't be a task so easy to accomplish. Before she could voice her confusion, she was ushered into the room with a nudge. The door closed at her heel and an audible _click_ confirmed that she was locked inside.

It was only when the other woman's retreating footsteps faded into silence that Poppy let herself slump back against the door. She unfurled her clenched first and looked down to see a silver key shimmer in her hand. She had a good guess as to what it would unlock; the quarters of the captain herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what can i say? i love witty banter and spicy kissing. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	5. stories and schemes

The galley was alight with the bustle of the meal to come. Spoons tapped against pots and knives clacked against cutting boards with enough fervor to fool Poppy into thinking she was in the expansive kitchen of the Bismark. However, the warmth that rolled off the boiling pots and heated pans quickly reminded her how cramped the space really was, despite there only being two of them there.

The ship's only stove was small but potent, much like Poppy's current jailer. The Lalafellin woman with a shock of orange hair and a nose keen for spices clambered onto the counter to open the porthole above. The sudden gust of fresh air made the beads of sweat that rolled down Poppy's face in lazy rivulets cool instantly. Relief settled the fur bristled on her tail and made her assigned task all the more bearable.

She continued to peel the popoto in her hand, letting the knife slide easily through the flesh to stop with gentle pressure against the callused pad of her thumb. It was nice to have something familiar and sharp in her grasp again, she realized, no matter how small. The peel fell to join the mountain of scraps below and she bent over from her seat hunched on the stool to rinse the bare popoto in the bucket of sea water that sat before her. She was in good enough spirits to ignore the painful stiffness that made her back ache.

"So, what happened then?" Poppy asked, prompting the other woman to continue her story. When the cook looked over, she held the popoto up. "Did she take care of the slavers?"

"Oh, she took care of 'em, all right. She sent half of 'em to the gaol's infirmary and the rest to the Seven Hells, no doubt." Yurara paused her train of thought to catch the popoto tossed to her. A wicked little smile curled her lips as she placed it on her board and began to chop with rapt enthusiasm. "The lot of us really were lucky that the bastards decided to dock so close to Limsa that day. I likely would've ended up in the Seven Hells right along with them, otherwise."

Poppy's brow furrowed at the implication. "So, the captain just had you join then and there, right after freeing you?" She reached for another popoto, noticing how the Lalafell shook her head. 

"Nah. I practically had to beg my way aboard. After I told her I didn't have a home to go to, she agreed to take me on. Lucky for me, the crew needed a new cook," Yurara explained. "I'm not much of a fighter, you see."

She tossed handfuls of chopped popotoes into the boiling water, sounding thoughtful as she watched them sink to bottom of the pot. Poppy hummed her surprise, to which the cook turned to flash her another grin.

"Lark taught me how to work a pistol, though, and I'm a pretty decent shot now, if I do say so myself," Yurara boasted. She paused her chopping to make the shape of a gun with her hand and playfully aimed it at a cup that sat on the counter. "I can shoot a tankard out of her fist from across the deck. Her reaction's best when she doesn't know I'm about to do it."

Poppy was stunned to hear that, but sneered at the series of images that flitted through her mind: the grumpy Hellsguard surprised and sputtering with the remnants of a broken cup in her hand and ale spilled at her feet, while a petite Yurara held an oversized gun and gloated from yalms away.

"Oh, I'd love to see _that_ ," she said and couldn't help but snort, which made Yurara laugh. 

"Too bad you can't stick around to. It really is a shame that they're just gonna toss you in gaol once we get to Limsa. You'd fit right in around here," the cook said as her laughter subsided. She gestured towards the pile of peels at Poppy's feet with her knife. "I sure could use another pair of hands as fast as yours around here more often, anyroad."

A smile lingered on her face while she continued to chop more vegetables, though it looked just a bit rueful. The comment was enough to cut Poppy's levity abruptly short. With how amicable the cook had been, she'd nearly forgotten the fate that awaited her. Silence fell over the galley and she wondered just how much she'd _really_ fit in with the rest of the crew who rightfully mistrusted her.

"Say, Yurara," Poppy began, feeling cautiously curious. "Does everyone aboard have a story like yours?" she asked. Without looking back at her, the cook nodded.

"A fair few of 'em do, aye. Why d'you ask?"

Poppy looked down at the popoto in her grasp, searching for the answer to the question on its glossy, half-peeled surface.

Though she spent the days past cleaning under Ajisai's watchful eye, stories were shared during meals and downtime—ones she overheard, whether she tried to eavesdrop or not. They ranged from recent exploits to future plans and would occasionally drift back to the past. Those tales were the most fascinating to hear, given the largely false rumors that buzzed around the Wild Rose's crew.

Some were seasoned pirates from older days of maritime glory. Others were retired adventurers who came aboard simply to escape the mundanity of life ashore. Others still had darker tales; spurned lovers and harmful families and wrongful run-ins with the law that drove them to the sea to escape. Poppy remembered how Lark muttered something about a nasty husband, and Ajisai mentioned offhand an arranged marriage she'd narrowly avoided.

"Heard some whispers, is all," she replied. "Just seems like the captain's a bit of a humanitarian." 

The comment was a bit too biting, perhaps, given how she was given a look in return that seemed to suggest she watch her tongue when she tossed the newly peeled popoto to the cook's awaiting hands.

"She's pulled a lot of 'em out of shite situations like mine. She's a good woman," Yurara replied firmly. "Most in _your_ shoes would've ended up at the bottom of the sea by now for pulling the stunts you did. She must see something worthwhile in you to've kept you alive this long. Don't forget that."

Poppy's ears ducked back at the scolding, the reminder pulling warmth to her face that wasn't from the heat of the stove. The cook said no more and turned her attention to the pot of bubbling soup, which smelled delicious enough to make Poppy's stomach grumble in the conversation's awkward lull. She distracted herself from her hunger and her embarrassment by reaching for another popoto, only to find there were none left. It seemed that her hands were as quick as the cook had suggested.

"Did you happen to hear any whispers about Adeline and Thalia?" Yurara asked after a while. She glanced at the treasure hunter, who shook her head in reply. "Shame. Their story's probably the best. Definitely the most dramatic, I'd say."

Poppy's ears flicked forward with interest, relieved to hear the jovial note back in the cook's tone.

"That so?" 

"Aye. You could say they're star-crossed lovers or some romantic shite like that."

She grinned when she saw Poppy's look of surprise, then continued to tell the tale with utmost drama:

"Their families didn't agree with them being together, so they ran away. Thalia's family is pretty influential in Gridania, you see, and didn't want her hanging around poor Adeline, let alone falling for her. The two of 'em ran all the way from the Shroud to Limsa before they were caught. That's when things got nasty. Turns out the family was involved with some right illegal trade deals. The captain got involved and—"

The sound of heavy footsteps cut the cook's story short. Poppy was so drawn in by the way the tale was weaved that she startled when she looked up to see the irate Highlander who loomed over her. Annoyance rolled off her in waves, likely coming from hearing her own history laid out like nothing more than idle gossip.

"Yurara," Adeline ground the cook's name out, who squeaked in surprise at the sudden intrusion. The tall pirate glared down at Poppy, then looked back to the Lalafell. "Why's the thief got a knife? Are ye dense, or what?" 

"You need a knife to peel," Yurara replied with an incredulous _tsk_ of her tongue. Her eyes never left the pot of soup, however, perhaps to escape the other woman's searing gaze.

"As if I could do much damage with this dinky thing anyway," Poppy added, butting into the argument in defense of her new friend.

She twirled the small paring knife in her hand and paused the demonstration only to smirk up at the pirate. Adeline looked less than amused. She reached down to snatch it from Poppy's grasp and tossed it out of her reach onto the counter. 

"Yer too trusting. Turn yer back too long and ye'll end up with that knife in yer gut," she grumbled in warning at the cook, but Yurara simply waved a dismissive hand at her crewmate. The taller pirate let out a puff of annoyance and turned her ire back on the treasure hunter. "It's long past time to get back in yer cage," she said and reached down to yank Poppy to her feet, who winced when her back cracked painfully at the sudden motion. Just as she was about to voice her annoyance at the rough treatment, Yurara cut in:

"Let me at least get her dinner before you haul her away," the cook said, clearly exasperated. "The captain would be none too pleased if she died of starvation."

The way she mentioned the captain made a surprising jolt pass through Poppy and the implication that the other woman would care for her well-being was an odd thought. The underlying bite to the words was enough to get Adeline to pause her tirade, though the taller pirate still rolled her eyes.

In the meantime, Yurara clambered onto the counter to find an empty bowl. Once it was filled to the brim with soup and a piece of bread, she fetched a cup of fresh water and handed Poppy her spoils.

"Right, right. Done with yer coddlin'? Good."

Adeline urged Poppy out of the galley with a forceful nudge. She could do little more than cast a final glance over her shoulder to see Yurara flash a sympathetic look before she hopped back onto her stool to tend the pots. 

Poppy was ushered to the closet in tense silence, her only comfort being the warm bowl of soup pressed against her hands. When they reached the door of her prison, Adeline nudged it open with the toe of her boot. 

"Don't bother tryin' nothin' funny. I'll be standin' guard all night, so you'd best behave," the Highlander said, words edged with acidic warning. Poppy sighed as she obediently entered the room.

"Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't dream of crossing you again," she said and tossed the other woman a smirk over her shoulder. 

The pointed look of suspicion that came her way seemed to suggest that Adeline still hadn't forgiven her for the incident on the island. After hearing Yurara's story, she was sure that attacking the pirate's beloved hadn't helped her case much either.

With that, the door was slammed in her face and locked with an audible _click_. The sound of footsteps never came. Adeline hadn't been bluffing about guard duty after all. Poppy sighed in defeat, but her stomach grumbled loud enough to pull her attention back to her meal. She took a seat on one of the crates and dug in.

It was a hearty soup more akin to a stew, filled with fish and vegetables and just enough spice—delicious and gone far too quickly for her liking. Poppy made a note to pay Yurara her compliments the next time she saw her. Though, she soon remembered they'd be docking in Limsa's harbor within the next day and realized she likely wouldn't get a chance to do that. 

The soup turned to a rock in her gut at the thought, lurching slightly with the ship. When Poppy gripped at the fabric of her pantalettes to keep herself grounded, she felt the outline of something small and metallic press against her hand from within the pocket. Slowly, she pulled the key out to let it rest on her palm, where it's silvery shine winked up at her almost tauntingly.

She couldn't help but remember the feeling of being pressed against the railing and vulnerable beneath the captain's lips, only to have the key dropped in her hand with cryptic instructions.

Poppy brought the untouched tankard of water to her lips and took a gulp to soothe her mounting irritation. Getting rid of Adeline would be a chore. Upon picturing Captain Alisaie's sneer and thinking of the wording of her challenge— _if she managed to slip out to have a discussion_ —she was sure that was on purpose. It seemed that she would have to earn the audience with the pirate.

The fresh water slithered down her throat, cold enough to shock her senses and remind her of something; the bottle of whiskey hidden within the crate she sat on. Poppy paused mid drink and set the tankard down. She stared at the door and wondered if her guard would take the bait. It was certainly worth a shot.

Lucky for her, the bottle was just as she left it the night before, tucked among the crate's hay. Poppy retrieved it and—with a final silent plea to Ayzema for luck—knocked on her side of the door. There was a long pause before an answer came.

"What d'ye want?"

The terse question was muffled by wood. Poppy hesitated for only a moment before she replied.

"It's awful lonely in here," she said, trying her best to come off as pitiful. "I'm bored."

There was the sound of floorboards creak beneath boots, and then an incredulous snort. 

"I don't give a damn," Adeline said. Poppy chose to ignore the other woman's rejection and press further.

"Come play a game with me. It'll be fun," she said with a lilting note she hoped sounded enticing.

"Are ye daft? D'ye really think me stupid enough to open this door?"

Poppy rolled her eyes. She wanted to say yes, but held her tongue. Instead, she glanced down at the bottle and decided to change her tactic slightly.

"If you don't at least hear me out, I'll just keep bothering you all night."

There was a moment of silence, then a bit of grumbling before the distinct clicking of keys came. The door opened a crack and Poppy was faced with a very irritated looking Adeline. She grinned at the Highlander, delighted to have caught her attention, and held the bottle up for her to see. The other woman's eyes went wide. 

"Where in the Seven Hells did ye steal that from?!"

"I didn't _steal_ it. It was in the crate," Poppy huffed in offense. "Want some?"

"Its not yers to offer, ye bloody thief!" Adeline exclaimed. Poppy was unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes again.

"Oh, it's not like anyone else was going to have it. Come on, I bet I can drink more than you."

That seemed to hit the right nerve. The door opened enough for Adeline's head to poke all the way through. She looked Poppy up and down with obvious suspicion and disbelief.

"As if! Yer a scrawny thing. Ye'd be down after one swig."

Poppy's grin grew wider and all the more taunting. "I've drank Roegadyn twice your size under a table," she bragged. Adeline's eyes went narrow with annoyance.

"Thief _and_ a liar. The full bloody package, ye are."

"There's only one way to find out if I'm lying." Poppy waved the bottle in front of her jailer's face. Adeline reached for it, but Poppy pulled it out of her grasp. "Go get some damn cups and I'll prove you wrong."

Adeline's eyes narrowed further. After a second, she smirked, and Poppy knew she'd won. It seemed that the shark had taken the bait of her little scheme—hook, line, and sinker.

"Don't blame me when ye wake up with the worst hangover of yer life in the mornin'." 

With that, the door shut again, and Poppy heard footsteps retreat. She leaned back against the crate and grinned down at the bottle.

"Came in handy," she muttered.

It would be a tall task to win a drinking contest against Adeline, but Poppy was always up for a challenge. She had a date to attend, after all, and wasn't one to keep a lady waiting for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: this was supposed to be a silly smutty au, why are you spending so much time developing the side characters  
> also me, after another 3k words of probably unnecessary worldbuilding: it's too late i'm already emotionally invested  
> honestly i would turn this into a full fledged 30 chapter thing but i can only handle one of those in my life at a time lol.
> 
> ok ok the next chapter will have the good stuff, i promise. it should be up within a week, just gotta edit. 👍


	6. lifeline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sexual content ahead)

Poppy held the bottle up. Faint moonlight pierced through the gloom of the closet with just enough brightness to illuminate the last few drops that remained inside.

"Damn."

She let out a low whistle of admiration before she brought the bottle to her lips to polish the whiskey off. It burned her tongue in tiny, smouldering pinpricks that turned to smoke as they faded away, leaving her mouth pleasantly warm.

"Good job, Ade! You sure proved me wrong. Looks like you win."

Adeline's reply was no more than another rumbling snore. She was slumped against a barrel, too far gone in her drunken slumber to appreciate her victory or the nickname the treasure hunter had given her. Poppy chuckled to herself at the sight, feeling just a bit smug.

Much like most tricky situations she often found herself in, she'd managed to cheat her way out of this one as well. A bit of whiskey diluted for herself with the remnants of her water cup was all it took. Once Adeline was loosened up with a bit of fully potent drink, it only got easier to fake her own swigs and keep the other woman's cup filled to the brim—especially when she asked leading questions about the pirate's beloved to distract her. It was sweet, really, how much she gushed about Thalia once she had half a bottle down.

"You know, you're not so bad once you get past that rough exterior. A real softie," Poppy said as she sprang up from where she sat cross-legged at the Highlander's feet. The few watered down shots she'd taken still made her sway a bit. "Shame that you'll be the one to wake up with that hangover, though. Sorry about the accommodations and all."

Another loud snore tore through the closet, suggesting that her new roommate didn't mind the cramped quarters in the least. Poppy leaned over to give Adeline's head a gentle pat. "Sleep well, lass."

With that, Poppy stepped out of the closet and into the familiar darkness of the hall. She didn't bother to lock the door behind her, knowing that the pirate would sleep well into the morning given how much she'd imbibed.

It didn't take long to reach the upper decks. The fog present on the previous nights had thinned to a pearly haze and Poppy halted for a moment at the noticeable lack of cover. She looked up at the masts that towered overhead and squinted to see that the ratlines and spars were clear. Only the stars winked down at her from above while all else was silent around her. Lucky again.

The haze stuck to her lungs in a salty film as she inhaled the night around her and crossed the deck with an ease that befitted a member of the crew, rather than the pesky thorn in their sides she knew she was. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the whiskey, but there was a certain thrill to being so bold. It was only when she descended the stairs that stretched beneath the helm and reached the door at the end of the short hall that she hesitated. 

A jiggle of the handle confirmed that the room was, indeed, locked. The key pulled from her pocket was heavy in her hand and something prickled her senses. Be it apprehension or unease or excitement—she wasn't quite sure what it was she felt, though that was because she didn't know what truly awaited her beyond that door. _Discussion_ was a vague description at best.

Knowing full well that she could walk right into a trap, Poppy slid the key into the lock. She was just foolhardy enough to let her curiosity be her guide.

With the door half open, Poppy could see that the captain's quarters were more modest than what she expected. The room wasn't massive or ornate, but comfortable—just big enough to breathe easy in and filled with an assortment of worn-looking furniture all carved of dark wood. A row of windows lined the opposite wall and let in enough moonlight past dusty red curtains to illuminate a bed topped with rosy sheets nestled among book-lined shelves, and a rug at the center of the space woven in matching crimson hues. Seated at the long table placed atop it was none other than the captain of _The_ _Thorn_ herself.

"You're a bit later than I expected," the other woman said, sounding impatient. "But, you're here nonetheless. I hope you don't mind that I've started tea without you."

Captain Alisaie reclined on a plush seat, elbow resting on its arm and chin propped up on her palm as she considered the treasure hunter from across the room. The first thing Poppy noticed was that her usual rose-adorned tricorne was missing. When she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the sight of the rather charming snowy tufts usually hidden by the hat, Poppy saw that it dangled from the back of the captain's chair along with her overcoat, while her rapier sat on a weapon rack nearby. She was left only in a pale, frilled blouse that hung loosely from her shoulders, tucked into dark breeches.

The casual air of her dress made her far less intimidating and the tiny smirk that graced her lips had Poppy frozen, still half in the hall with an iron grip anchoring her to the doorknob.

"Well, come in. We have matters to discuss and our drinks are only getting colder."

The captain's order was enough to pull Poppy from her surprised daze. When she stepped inside, it felt as though a certain threshold was passed. She pulled the door shut behind her despite the hesitation that still wriggled in her gut, thus sealing herself into whatever fate awaited her.

"It's not every day you're invited to a tea party with a pirate," she joked to alleviate some of the tension she felt form between her and the other woman. The pirate offered little more than a light scoff in reply, which just made things crackle even more.

As she approached the table in measured steps that she hoped looked more confident than she felt, Poppy noticed the assortment of things that littered its surface. There was a pile of books near a stack of parchment and opened letters with cracked seals of red wax, along with an inkwell and quill placed next to a selection of maps made in varying sizes that depicted the stars and the sea and things beyond her knowledge. She noticed, also, the familiar silver glint of a dagger from where it sat behind a pot she assumed was filled with tea. The treasure hunter felt a jolt at the sight, but tore her gaze from the prize as soon as she spotted it. She couldn't be too bold. Instead, she pulled out her chair and took a seat.

After days of sleeping on the floor, the cushion beneath her was plush enough to the point of discomfort and made her feel like she might sink into the unfamiliar softness. The captain watched her shift around with open interest as she stirred her tea with a tiny silver spoon. Once settled, Poppy glanced down at her own cup with guarded suspicion.

"It's not poisoned, is it?" she joked again, but knew it was a serious inquiry. Captain Alisaie shrugged the accusation off from her spot across the table.

"If I wanted to kill you I would have been far more direct, far sooner," she replied.

The bluntness of the answer prompted an unbidden snort of laughter from Poppy. "Fair enough."

When the captain raised her teacup for a sip, Poppy moved to mirror her. It was a delicate thing made of simple white porcelain fillled with a warm brew that smelled faintly of a garden. The first taste was cautious. She stared over the cup's rim at the odd tea party's host to see no reaction and relaxed a bit when no ill effects overcame her from the drink. She wasn't surprised in the least when the florid perfume of roses found her tongue. 

A minute of silence thick with anticipation stretched between the two of them. The captain was the first to break the stalemate, "May I ask how you managed to slip past your guard?"

"Won a drinking contest," Poppy replied to the captain's curiosity with easy smugness. She placed her cup back on its saucer with a smirk. "Well, I guess she technically won since I cheated. All that drink put her right to sleep. Made it real easy for me to get out," she amended, not bothering to delve into too many details.

"I'd thought Adeline would have be a more formidable opponent than that," Captain Alisaie said after a light sigh, perhaps disappointed in her crew member. "It seems Thalia was correct in calling you a snake. I suppose I shouldn't have doubted your ability to slip through the cracks yet again."

She shook her head as if frustrated by the situation, but the impressed note in her tone betrayed her. Poppy's smirk widened to a wolfish grin at that. Delighted by the thrill of exchanging barbs with the captain, she tapped a nail against the side of her teacup before she delivered her rebuttal.

"Judging by how prepared you were by having all this ready, it seems you never doubted me at all."

There was a pause before the captain's terse reply, in which she repeated Poppy's earlier words, "Fair enough."

Poppy took another sip of tea to hide her pleased sneer at the sight of barely restrained annoyance. The taste of it, she realized, reminded her of the captain's lips and made her remember, in an odd sort of way that snuck up on her, that she found herself in the other woman's bedchamber, alone. The thoughts pricked her mind like alluring little thorns.

"So," she said after a moment. "You going to tell me what you wanted to discuss?"

Captain Alisaie nudged her cup to the side and leaned forward on her elbows to consider the treasure hunter with that steely blue gaze of hers. The motion made the braid draped across her shoulder shift. Poppy's eyes were drawn to it and followed the trail of hair from the enticing sight of her exposed neck down to her pale décolletage, which rose and fell gently with each breath. She found her mouth was dry despite the tea, though overwhelmingly florid because of it, as she leaned forward in anticipation.

"Mistbeard's Barb is no common bounty, even for a seasoned treasure hunter. There's a reason why you wanted it badly enough to risk life and limb and try a scheme as foolish as attempting to _seduce_ _me_ to retrieve it. I want to know what that reason is."

Poppy couldn't help but steal a glance at the mentioned dagger. She felt a sinking sensation at the sight, but pulled her gaze down to her cup, and found the tea tepid when she raised it to her lips for another sip. Captain Alisaie's bluntness was as sharp as her sword and had cut to the heart of the matter in mere moments. 

"Did I really go through all the trouble of getting here just to be interrogated? How _dull_."

The frown she wore likely held more disappointment than she intended to show. The pirate quirked a brow in response.

"Were you expecting something else?"

"Maybe I was," Poppy shot back. She leaned in her seat with a sigh, moving to cross her legs. Her pouting made Captain Alisaie's lips thin to line pursed in clear annoyance.

"Forgive me for dashing whatever expectations you had. However, I invited you here to also make you an offer—but not before you answer my one question."

Poppy lifted her chin to gaze at the captain from beneath her lashes. She tilted her head, curious and suspicious in equal measure, wondering what an offer from the other woman could possibly entail. She secretly hoped it was dagger-shaped.

"How about I ask _you_ a question first," she suggested. When the pirate tilted her own head and made no attempt to decline, she continued, "What's your story?"

"My story?"

"How'd you become captain? You weren't born into this. There's no way." 

Captain Alisaie stared at her for a long moment. Her expression shifted just enough for Poppy to guess that her hunch had been correct. 

"Perceptive, are you? Fine. If you answer my question afterwards, I'll answer yours first," the captain said, clearly caught between being impressed and irritated. She moved to steeple her fingers and rested her chin upon them. Her gaze was no more than a razor thin point when she continued, "As well as being mine, Ankaswys was Quartermaster for the previous captain of this ship. She elected me to take over in her stead when the time came, saying she had no interest in captainhood and that I had the makings of a leader. The crew agreed and _The Thorn_ has been under my command for the past five summers since. That's how I became captain."

She paused to gaze out the slanted windows at the Rhotano Sea that fell beneath the ship like an inky blanket. Poppy caught her brow furrow a hair.

"However, I originally hail from Sharlayan."

Poppy stared at the other woman, silent in her surprise. The captain's reluctant admittance eventually settled in her mind like a puzzle piece that clicked into place. The way the she spoke, the aristocratic air about her, all the books scattered around the room—

"Sharlayan," she blurted out in recognition. "The place in Dravania with all the scholars. Makes sense. You always struck me as too..." she made a vague gesture with her hands to help articulate her thoughts, "—too fancy to be a born pirate."

The spell that the sea held over Captain Alisaie broke. She glanced over to shoot the treasure hunter a pointed look. " _Fancy_?" she asked, incredulous. She looked like she wanted to argue that, but a chuckle pushed past her lips instead. "Regardless of what you might think of me, that's the general gist of it. Now, I believe it's your turn to share."

The captain was too eager to change the subject for Poppy to not think that it went far deeper than that. However, she chose not to press her luck by asking more for the time being, and decided instead to acquiesce—though not without first heaving a dramatic sigh.

"It's simple, really. I've got debts to pay and for that you need coin. Folks in high places pay a pretty gil for daggers as old and important as that one."

"And how did you incur so great a debt as to need this particular dagger?"

"That's more than one question, captain," Poppy chided with a playful _tsk_ of her tongue. Seeing the impatient look the pirate shot her made her roll her eyes and realize her own patience was steadily wearing thin."How do you think treasure hunters go into debt? They promise the wrong people the wrong things and then don't deliver."

She paused to grit her teeth, lost in the unpleasant memories dredged up by the captain's prodding.

"You eventually end up with a corrupt, coin-hungry Sultansworn breathing threats down your neck when you don't deliver their goods, since you're a bloody idiot who decided to sell those goods to the sod down the street instead. Then you find yourself working for a Syndicate arsehole in exchange for protection, but you only get that protection if you show up with the best shite. Shite like priceless relics. And if you don't, well—" she trailed off to mimic the motion of slitting her throat. "Catch my drift now, captain?" 

Poppy was so caught up in hotly explaining her predicament that she didn't realize just how much she'd revealed. Her jaw snapped shut, but the truth was already bare on the table, laid out neatly between the dagger and the pot of cold tea. 

"I suspected as much," the captain replied, quiet and contemplative.

Poppy was irritated enough to want to make a comment about her asking questions if she already _suspected as much_ , but the other woman soon spoke again. The dagger held her gaze all the while.

"Very well. I'd like to offer you a choice, Poppy. Your first option is that your fate will remain unchanged: I hand you over to the Admiral tomorrow when I return the dagger to her, where you will thus be at her mercy. The second is—" she paused, eyes flicking up to meet Poppy's, "—you join my crew."

If the treasure hunter's jaw hadn't already snapped shut, it would have done so again. "Hold a moment—I thought you didn't parley with petty thieves!" Her voice raised an octave, practically squeaking in all her disbelief.

"I'm willing to make an exception. It seems like you could use a hand in this situation."

The captain tried to shrug it off, but Poppy saw it; that same grating softness that seeped into her gaze when the other woman sometimes looked at her. The treasure hunter dug her nails into the arms of the chair when she realized what was happening. 

"Oh, I see how it is," she muttered. "Look, I don't need your pity and I certainly don't need you to rescue me like you did the rest of your girls. I'm not another little stray for you to add to your collection."

The acidity in her tone was enough to deepen the captain's frown, but she closed her eyes after a moment and sighed, as if to swallow whatever rebuttal nearly made it past her lips.

"You've been gossiping with Yurara. Now I understand why you were asking about _stories_. Regardless, I'm presenting you with a lifeline, should you require it—as I've done for everyone who I've invited to join my crew. This has nothing to do with pity, and less to do with curating a collection. Everyone aboard this ship has earned their place and plays a part in making our course run smooth."

The captain's words needled to fine points, but she kept her composure and managed to finish her proposal with strained brevity, "You're highly skilled in both combat and subterfuge. I'm no fool to not see that someone like you would be an invaluable addition aboard _The Thorn_."

The ship rocked around them, gentle, like the back and forth tipping of a scale. For a fraction of a moment, even though it stung her pride, Poppy considered accepting the offer. The thought of Yurara's comment about her fitting right in brought a flicker of hope, but the memory of the crew's collective wariness weighed heavy in her mind: the suggestions on the beach, the whispers when she boarded the ship, the yelling for her blood when she lost the duel, Adeline and Thalia and even Lark's obvious disdain.

"Don't think your crew would be too pleased to have me around. I've already overstayed my welcome."

"They can be swayed. You've already proven your worth with all the cleaning you've done, after all."

The captain's response was so instant and laced with enough assured amusement that Poppy shook her head in disbelief. She leaned her elbows on the table to rest her chin atop her folded hands and stared at the other woman through eyes narrowed in thought, mulling over her proposal all the while. Of all things to come from their discussion, she hadn't expected that sort of twist. The choices weren't exactly in her favor either way. However, the gears in her mind already began to turn.

"You needn't answer right away if you'd like to think it over. You have until we dock tomorrow," Captain Alisaie said. The pirate stared back at her with an expectant sort of edge to her gaze, but broke away to glance out at the sea

"What if there's something else I want?" Poppy blurted out.

The captain looked back at her from between strands of her snowy fringe. "And what might that be?" she asked in turn. The curiosity that tinged her words managed to quirk her brow as well.

Poppy smiled and replied with cool, unbothered confidence, as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the world:

"The heart of a pirate."

The captain was still for a moment. She stared across the table, her own eyes narrowing to scour the treasure hunter's face as if she tried to gauge her seriousness.

"Are you still playing at that game?" She would've sounded amused if not for the sharp creak of the chair she leaned back in. The sound seemed to amplify her disbelief. 

"You give a girl the key to your chambers and then assume she wouldn't want something to come of it?" Poppy asked, pouting with feigned offense. "Oh, were you expecting me to beg for the dagger instead? Well, isn't it odd that it's been on the table between us this whole time, but my eyes've only been on _you_?"

Captain Alisaie glanced down at the mentioned blade then back up at Poppy, who still held her gaze to add credence to her point. The pirate frowned, still clearly unsure what to make of the request.

"Speak plainly. If not the dagger, then what is it that you want from me?"

Her tone seemed to suggest her patience was worn thin, but Poppy was unhurried while she thought over the pirate's question. Flashes of the previous night flitted through her mind in the seconds to follow: fingers roaming her hips, a knee wedged between her thighs, lips soft as petals sighing against her own. She felt herself grow a degree warmer from the phantom touches as she stared, unflinching, at the woman whose grasp left her aching.

It was true that she wanted the dagger, but she wanted _that_ even more—though, the intensity of that desire was surprising even to her. _S_ _peaking plainly,_ as the captain said, was a gamble. But Poppy meant to roll the dice and see if luck would be cast in her favor yet again.

"Well, you could bend me over this table and have your way with me. That'd be a start."

Poppy folded her hands neatly in her lap with all the propriety of a diplomat who'd just proposed a well-formulated treaty. The captain was silent for a while, her only reaction being that her eyes widened a fraction. She inhaled a sharp breath, then exhaled a sound not unlike a broken chuckle.

"How needlessly crude. You could ask politely, you know," she replied with what sounded like a hint of offense.

Poppy couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that. "Have I offended the _pirate's_ delicate sensibilities?" she asked and flashed a grin that was all teeth and teasing.

The captain let a smirk slip past her stoic mask and Poppy sat up straighter when she realized she hadn't received an outright rejection yet. There was but a moment of hesitation before she committed to her decision, then pushed her chair back and stood.

Poppy's hand brushed against the edge of the table as she moved alongside it with deliberate slowness. It was hard to ignore the urge to reach out for the dagger when she passed it by. She turned her back on the blade to instead hop up and take a seat, leaning back on her hands and crossing her legs to make herself comfortable. Her tail sprawled out behind her to flick lazily against her spurned target.

She would deal with that nuisance later. For the time being, she intended to enjoy herself.

Captain Alisaie watched the odd display all the while, still lightly wary and looking less than pleased that the Miqo'te had decided to drape herself across her furniture in such an improper manner. Sensing the eyes that burned into her, Poppy's head lolled back and turned to the side to shoot the pirate an inviting smile over her shoulder.

"How about we finish what we started last night?" The words were light and playful, falling easily past the pout that formed on Poppy's lips. "That polite enough for you, my dear captain?"

The other woman stared at her with an expression that betrayed nothing. A moment later, she pushed her seat back and stood.

She was upon Poppy in less than a breath. When her hands dropped to the table on either side of her, the treasure hunter felt a hair less intimidated than she did during her previous close encounters with the pirate. That closeness was becoming a welcome familiarity, in fact, if the anticipation that prickled her skin was any indication. The gaze that fell on her from beneath pale lashes that framed half-lidded eyes was soft again, dulled by the captain's own desire, and seeing her veneer washed away even just a bit made Poppy all the more confident.

She reached for the crisp white collar of Captain Alisaie's blouse and straightened it, flattening her palms against the fabric before she moved downward to toy with one of the remaining buttons that kept it closed. When her fingers flicked it undone, her gaze traveled up to meet the other woman's again. The eyes that looked back at her didn't speak the ire she'd expected to see, so she undid the next button and one more after that to hammer home her intent.

As she grazed the edge of collarbones just barely hidden beneath the other woman's shirt, she was surprised by the finger that slipped under the bandana tied around her own throat that tugged her closer into the warmed space between them. Thinking that she'd overstepped an unspoken boundary, Poppy froze, breath held. A fraction of fear returned, icy under her skin.

"If you're still toying with me, I'll have you know that I won't tolerate any more schemes from you." Captain Alisaie's voice was low in warning and Poppy blinked up at her in surprise.

"Who said any of this was ever a scheme?" she whispered in earnest. "It's been nice chatting, captain, but I'm just tired of talking."

The moments after Poppy's reply stretched into an eternity. Captain Alisaie's grip on the bandana went slack and her next words were but a hushed thread of implication that Poppy had little time to ponder over.

"If you tire of talking, then speak no more."

The pirate was the one who shifted forward to catch the treasure hunter's lips with her own. It was soft at first, hesitant and surprising in equal measure, but hunger quickly replaced softness and lips soon parted to make way for teeth and tongues. Their breaths mingled until the lingering floral notes of the tea sang between them among sharp inhales.

Poppy's hands balled to fists, crumpling cotton beneath her grasp as she uncrossed her legs. The other woman moved closer and when she did, Poppy wrapped her arms around the pirate's neck to tangle her fingers into her hair. The captain let out a pleased little hum at the touch, which encouraged the treasure hunter to explore further until she found the end of her braid. The scarlet ribbon was undone with fumbling fingers that then carded through the strands to set them loose. The soft whiteness of it had her silently waxing poetic about moonlight and pale fog and other such silliness—until the captain found her skin, that is.

When the other woman just barely brushed against the tops of her thighs on her way to grasp her waist, Poppy decided she was wearing too much. Captain Alisaie's hands were on her in an instant as if in silent agreement, pressing against her hips through her tunic and then shifting upward to undo the buckle of the belt that sat against her waist. The band of leather was discarded and the fabric beneath it hitched up so she could roam the newly bared skin with ample curiosity, slipping up her sides, tracing the curve of her spine, and finally finding the edge of her bralette.

Poppy whimpered into the pirate's mouth and arched her back into the sensation of fingers sweeping beneath soft lace to brush against the pert buds hidden underneath. She nipped at the other woman's bottom lip, very much overwhelmed and eager and wanting, so desperately wanting for more. Captain Alisaie let a tiny chuckle slip between kisses—rich as velvet and dark with some sort of hidden amusement. The sound made Poppy wonder at once if she'd fallen into a trap after all. 

It felt like madness to be so vulnerable, to willingly be at the mercy of the woman who held her very fate in her hands, who could've killed her time and time again. Such intimacy of wandering hands and wanting mouths was better afforded to a friend than a foe, but Poppy didn't care. She was too thrilled by the danger of it, the heady precariousness of bedding her enemy and allowing her so close. If it was madness, then she would drown in it and let it swallow her up like the hungry sea, if only it meant that the pirate wouldn't stop her aching touches. 

Poppy's arms soon dropped from the captain's shoulders to fiddle with the laces of her own boots. She tugged at the strings with muted frustration, but was grateful when the other woman retreated from beneath her tunic to assist her. The boots were soon pulled from her legs and fell to the floor with a soft thud, leaving her relieved to have a stifling layer shed.

More layers were peeled away when the captain's hands found her waist again. They trailed around her back to undo the buttons and bows that kept her tail tucked in place and Poppy eagerly shifted upward on the table to allow both her pantalettes and smalls to pass over her thighs. They fell to the floor to join the growing pile of her clothing and suddenly, she found herself half bare before the captain. Her hands tangled in the pirate's blouse to pull her even closer, to draw nearer the warm mouth against her own, to feel the calloused hands that chased away the night's chill that crept against exposed skin.

And gods, those hands were so _close._ They trailed up her legs where thumbs dipped down to brush against the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. It was purposeful and teasing and enough to make Poppy rock her herself forward to speed things up, but a palm soon gripped her hip to anchor her in place. She groaned her agony against captain's lips, who continued her tortuous pace until she stopped just short.

Captain Alisaie shifted just enough to pull away from their kiss. Hair slipped over her shoulders at the motion and fell to surround Poppy in a pale curtain. She sat, lips bitten and skin prickled to gooseflesh, staring up with lust-addled enchantment at the woman who seemed to still tower over her despite the boost in height sitting atop the table gave her. The pirate's face was flushed just so, bringing color to her cheeks and the bridge of her nose and the very tips of her ears, highlighting the subtle sharpness of her features.

 _Twelve_ , Poppy thought, feeling half-mad, both her breath and her thoughts catching in her throat. The pirate was stunning, truly so, and the sight made her momentarily forget her eagerness.

A gaze as blue as the darkened sea held Poppy in still silence for what felt like an epoch. Only the sensation of silken strands that brushed against her face snapped her from the stupor and made her fully realize the pause. Just as she was about to voice her confusion, the captain spoke.

"Is this really what you want?"

The skin between her ashen brows wrinkled just enough to suggest hesitation. The captain's hand remained still, though the pads of her fingertips shifted in place just above Poppy's thigh in a maddening way. Even amid the impatience that left her mind a muddle, she was surprised to hear the question.

"Do I seem unwilling?" she asked, just a bit incredulous. Still, somewhere in the back of her mind she was admittedly appreciative that permission was asked for. Poppy smiled—a wanton, lopsided thing that pulled up a corner of her mouth. She hooked a leg behind the other woman's thighs to urge her closer. " _Fuck me_ , captain," she ordered, feeling breathless and lightheaded.

Captain Alisaie's expression went from hesitation to hunger in less than a breath. She smirked as she bowed her head and a hand undid the knot of Poppy's bandana to pull it away.

"Forgone politeness completely, have you?"

The whispered question that tickled the side of the treasure hunter's newly exposed neck was heavy with amusement. Poppy chuckled at that, feeling delirious from the sensation of lips against her pulse and the hand that edged up the inside of her thigh.

"Politeness was never a thing meant for thieves like us."

The quip ended in a gasp when the captain's thumb traced the outline of a protruding hip bone, trailed across her stomach, then dipped downward past a scratch of hair to find its target. 

The other woman was slow at first in her exploration, perhaps cautious and still just a bit hesitant. It was funny, really, how different it was from their duel, that first kiss, and every interaction in between. After a barrage of cold sharpness, Poppy hadn't expected the captain to be so gentle a lover. She seemed almost shy with how her face was pressed against the treasure hunter's neck, her fingers dragging against slick folds in a delicate sort of way that one would reserve for plucking the petals from a flower.

Poppy tossed back her head, eyes closed, breath shaky. She relished in the softness of it, appreciated the attention being poured on every part of her that needed it. The captain trailed up and down in a steady rhythm that left her quivering and already painfully close to coming undone. She swore to herself at the mounting pleasure, and the sound of the whisper caused the captain to shift. It wasn't until teeth grazed her neck and nails dug into her hip and fingers pulled away from the most sensitive nerves that she realized they were only just getting started. 

The first finger that slid into Poppy had her curling her toes. The sensation pushed the air from her lungs and prompted the captain to nip again at her pulse. It was when the second joined the first that she was reminded of the slight difference in their sizes that went beyond height. She felt small suddenly, with those long fingers pressed into her and the rest of the pirate hunched over her, tall and willowy with wiry muscle that strained beneath pale cotton as she began to move again. 

"Gods," Poppy muttered under her breath. " _Fuck_." 

There was that rich little chuckle again, slipped between each graceful motion of her hand. "I thought you were tired of talking," Captain Alisaie murmured against the treasure hunter's jaw, teasing with feigned surprise. 

Poppy would've returned a biting reply had her mind not been so occupied. She focused only on the fingers that filled her and stretched her and pushed further and further inside in a way that made her dizzy. A whimper still managed to escape past her lips, but all she could do was bite her traitorous tongue with enough pressure to taste faint notes of copper.

All softness was gone then, replaced by desperation. Poppy clawed at Captain Alisaie's blouse, wanting more than she could reach, but managed to slip underneath to dig her nails into the pirate's shoulders in a silent plea. She rocked her hips as far forward as she could to ride her hand, but the one that held her hip refused to yield and give her quarter. The captain had the gall to then reach around her back and drag her nails against the delicate patch of skin above Poppy's tail, which made it lash behind her in a moment of unbidden sensitivity.  

"You—"

Again, she found the words dead, turned to a breathy moan when the captain repeated the motion along with a well-timed thrust of her fingers. She hummed against Poppy's shoulder at the reaction, sounding blissfully innocent. 

Poppy stared up at the ceiling, seeing stars among dark grains of wood. Pressure was building to a swell and the rope of tension that'd formed between her and the other woman was pulled taut enough to snap at any moment. Each individual sensation became vivid: petal-soft lips against her neck, a thumb circling, fingers curling suddenly against a certain spot, impossibly deep. 

"A-Alisaie," Poppy managed to stammer out. She wasn't sure what made her drop the title. A subtle dig of disrespect or a scrap of control amid a vulnerable situation, perhaps. "Alisaie," she said the name again without the stifling formality, and realized she liked how it felt on her tongue.

The other woman lifted her head at that, moving close enough to nearly press her forehead against the treasure hunter's. Her expression was odd—caught between lust and surprise and something soft. She pressed into her again and again, harder than before, deeper and faster until Poppy could take no more and unraveled beneath her gaze. 

Her lover's lips were against her own again to capture the moans that came out, as if she wanted to see how they tasted for herself. Poppy's arms were around her neck and her legs wrapped around her waist to hold her close until the wave crested and crashed, leaving her feeling battered beneath it. Eventually she settled, and the pace slowed until the fingers inside her retreated. 

They were both still for a while. The captain breathed life into her in her afterglow, kissing with surprising tenderness. It was with mild reluctance that Poppy let the other woman pull away from her tangled grasp.

"Satisfied now?" Captain Alisaie asked. Her voice held a low rasp, teasing and perhaps a bit curious.

Poppy's mind was full of cotton bolls. She was hazy and soft in her dazed state, but reality slowly caught up to her in an amusing way. Had she known that being captured by the famed pirate captain would lead to _that_ , perhaps she would've resisted less. From her place sprawled atop the table, disheveled and still panting, Poppy managed to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. 

The captian watched her, waiting for a reply. The treasure hunter noticed then how the blouse crumpled by her own hands slid off Captain Alisaie's shoulder as she lifted a hand to tuck several snowy stands behind an ear. The sight made something stir within Poppy that rolled through her gut like a hot coal, and her eyes were drawn to the bed that sat a few paces behind its owner.

"It's a start," she replied coyly and slid off the table to approach the captain.

The taller woman looked surprised when Poppy reached out only to give her a gentle shove backwards. Confusion and suspicion alike were writ on her face when the back of her legs pressed against the frame of the bed and she was urged to take a seat. Poppy dropped to her knees before the pirate and smiled up at her, not breaking eye contact as she undid the laces of her boots. 

"What are you—"

"I may not be polite, but I'm fair," Poppy interrupted with subtle sharpness. The boots were pulled off the captain's legs and tossed to the side. "I don't ever leave a girl wanting."

The suggestive way she spoke seemed to make the pirate catch her meaning. Poppy rose and leaned over to undo the last few buttons of the shirt, causing a smirk to curl the other woman's lips. "How noble of you," she managed to quip before the treasure hunter kissed her again. 

Poppy brushed the blouse away so that she could reach the closures of the breastguard hidden underneath. She flicked them undone and admired, through half-lidded eyes, the contrast of black silk against pale skin before it too was shrugged off to join the blouse on the floor, where her breeches soon followed suit.

Poppy gripped the pirate's bare shoulders and gave her another gentle shove. The other woman shifted back at her urging and Poppy crept onto the bed after her, feeling for a moment like a coeurl who gave chase to her prey. The silly little thought made her sneer as she paused to pull her own tunic and bralette over her head, very much enjoying the way the other woman watched her with restrained hunger while she peeled those final layers away.

It really was a mad thing they did, but it was only when she straddled the captain's hips and gazed down at her from above that she fully realized it. After being the one who was always vulnerable beneath her, it was so odd to see the other woman from that angle. Her eyes swept over her unlikely lover's bare form and the sight was enough to bring back the sensation of coals roiling in her belly, pleasant and warm. Thoughts of their discussion were but a distant reverie at that point.

Captain Alisaie's fingers fluttered against the covers beneath them as if she was unsure what to do with her hands. Her face was more flushed than it'd been before and, upon noticing Poppy's prolonged stare, she averted her gaze, looking just a bit embarrassed. Rosy lips parted slightly to say something, but she swallowed whatever words might've come to her. The motion of it made her exposed throat all the more enticing when it rose and fell.

"Tell me, captain," Poppy murmured as she leaned over. "Do you bed every potential recruit, or am I getting special treatment?" The question rumbled against the side of the other woman's neck as a light purr, giddy with amusement.

"You seem to forget that _you're_ the one doing the bedding here."

The tart reply and the scoff that came with it made Poppy grin wide enough to bare her small, pointed fangs against the captain's skin. She relished in the sounds of the other woman's soft gasps as she pricked her teeth against her neck again and again until they traveled upward to drag against the delicate shell of her ear. The muted sounds grew sharper, needling in the taller woman's chest along with the thrumming of her heart that Poppy at once realized she could feel. They were so very close and only growing closer when Captain Alisaie's hands finally found some use in gripping the smaller woman's hips and wrapping around the small of her back to hold her in place.

Poppy was almost rueful to pull away, to shift downward and out of the captain's grasp, but teasing took too long and she aimed to please. Her lips found the other woman's collarbones and then her breasts and the sound she earned from that was a delight—a keen, or as close to one as the pirate would allow herself to utter before her lips pressed together to stop the noise. Her hands found the treasure hunter's shoulders just as a knee landed between her thighs, which immediately shifted upward with just enough pressure to make her intent clear. It was a bit of revenge for the previous night, perhaps, and the gasp pulled from the captain was well worth the nails dug into her skin with enough pressure to mark. She rutted against her knee, her grip growing sharper with each press.

Poppy couldn't help but giggle between kisses and bites, though she didn't linger for long. Down and down she went, peppering the captain in her affection along the way. The soft skin beneath her breasts, the dip of her navel, the swell of her hips—no part of her was spared from the devilish tongue and lips that found them. Captain Alisaie breathed heavily all the while, urging her onward with near-silent little sounds that had the treasure hunter wanting to make them louder. It was only when she reached the edge of the other woman's smalls that she paused and looked up to find her lover stare back at her, expectant from beneath pale lashes.

"Well, don't stop now," she rasped quietly, sounding impatient.

"Don't intent to," Poppy murmured in reply. She grinned again and pulled the captain's underthings away to discard them somewhere among the darkness gathered below the bed.

The treasure hunter's calloused hands slid down the pirate's thighs as she settled between them. Her lips ghosted across the skin to follow the gentle touches, lingering, teasing for only a breath before she bowed her head. It was still only with the first gentle drag of her tongue that Captain Alisaie let herself cry out. Poppy's eyes slipped closed as she focused fully on making sure the captain would all but unravel beneath her.

The sharp tongue usually used for biting comments lavished the captain instead, who seemed to enjoy the attention given how she rocked her hips against her eager lover's mouth. Poppy repeated the motions over and over, tracing her length, deftly teasing her entrance, until all she could think of was the taste of petals adrift on the salt of the sea.

Captain Alisaie's fingers soon combed through her hair to anchor her in place. Her nails traced senseless trails across Poppy's scalp and paused only to brush against the delicate skin of the Miqo'te's inner ear. Poppy hummed her approval at the gentle yank that followed to wordlessly urge her to continue after she briefly faltered her pace. She was rewarded with a cant of the captain's hips against her and her tongue went back to work, flattening, dragging broad strokes along the sensitive flesh beneath her mouth. It was joined by two fingers that slid inside her lover all at once, wanting so desperately to please her.

"Poppy—"

Hearing her name spoken in so needy a way by the woman who was usually so stern, so demanding, sent a jolt through Poppy. She worked at the captain's aches, curling fingers inside her with each thrust while her tongue circled the sensitive bud, relentless in her pace, not stopping to think or even breathe. The tightening grip of her lover's hand on her head told her that she was close, so perilously close to coming undone—and soon she did.

The final sound Poppy was rewarded with was caught between a cry and a gasp that had the captain's hips rising to press against her, hand keeping her close all the while. She then sank back against the sheets with a sigh that left her limp, though her hand still carded gently through the short, coppery tufts of Poppy's hair. The treasure hunter sat up after a moment of lingering licks, though not before she pressed a series of slow kisses against the inside of her lover's thigh.

"Satisfied?" she asked the captain, lightly mocking in repeating her earlier question. She grinned yet again, mouth wet with the captain's obvious reply.

The other woman watched her, looking as dazed as Poppy had felt not long before, though she managed a pout. The fingers still on her head gave her ear a playful tug to guide her to a waiting mouth, where she kissed the treasure hunter so she might taste herself on her tongue.

There was a brief moment of peace that bloomed between them. For a while, Poppy forgot the circumstances that brought them together in the first place to instead focus on their flush skin and the arms around her waist, holding her close, dragging against her back with a familiarity that was almost frightening.

However, even lingering sweetness faded. The treasure hunter's mind went back to daggers and debts and proposals as soon as she pulled away from her lover—her enemy again, rather. The reality of it all weighed heavy on her shoulders despite the nice distraction that'd momentarily moved her thoughts away from her troubles.

"I s'pose I should be getting back to my closet," she said, trying hard not to sound disappointed. She shifted away just slightly, hesitant beneath the captain's warm embrace. "Can't keep my jailer waiting up all night for me, after all."

She moved to sit up and begin the process of getting dressed, but the captain caught her before she could get very far. She was pulled back down beside the other woman with little effort, though she didn't put up much of a fight.

"Stay," Captain Alisaie murmured, and it sounded more like a plea than an order.

She propped herself up on an elbow to hover just above Poppy and held her in place with a hand on her hip that was all too insistent. The treasure hunter blinked up at the other woman in surprise until the captain caught herself. The softness she'd had about her went sharp again, her grip going slack.

"In case you've forgotten, I offered up a proposal and I'd like to hear your answer in the morning. Besides, it's easier to keep an eye on you if you're right next to me."

The reasoning was as thinly veiled as the deck above them was, coated in its pearly haze of fog. Poppy couldn't help but reach up to run her fingers through the silken white strands that surrounded her once more, relishing in the strange, frail intimacy that'd formed between them like a thin sheet of frost.

"Is it wise to invite a thief to spend the night in your chambers, captain?" she asked quietly, teasing if not for the longing in her tone that she hoped was more muted than what she felt.

The pirate gazed back down at her, hesitant again, and gave a light sigh in response. "You're not the only reckless fool aboard this ship," she replied and her tone was a muddle of emotion.

Poppy sneered, but was surprised when the captain leaned down to wipe the expression from her lips before she could think of a quip to go with it. Thoughts of the dagger lingered in the back of her mind even as they kissed. But the bed was so comfortable beneath her, inviting after sleeping on the hard ground those past few nights. It seemed, however, that sleep was still a bit further off than expected when the hand on her hip began to wander. As Poppy gave herself over to the other woman again and wrapped her arms around her neck to pull her close, she vowed to find a way out of the predicament on her own terms—in the morning, once she'd had her fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. that sure ended up longer than expected. and i wonder why it takes me forever to write these things... but hey, sometimes you just gotta let loose and write the flowery pirate smut of your dreams.


	7. the price of freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sexual content ahead)

Poppy stirred to the sensation of warm breaths against her ear. In the sleepy confusion of waking, the odd feeling gave her pause. The distinct heaviness of an arm draped across her brought her to a certain realization and a purr soon rumbled deep in her chest. It was always nice to wake in the embrace of a lover.

She was very content, however, with the thought of more sleep and her eyes stayed closed, still heavy from lingering exhaustion. Regardless of her wishes, her ear remained under the constant assault of continuous puffs of air. It twitched, ticklish enough to make her breathe out a chuckle that turned into a yawn. She resigned herself to fully waking then and shifted beneath the sheets just enough to stretch sore limbs. A pleasant sort of ache bloomed within her at the motion, bringing with it vague memories of the night that left her feeling warm.

Poppy rolled onto her side to press herself closer to her bedmate. The other woman sighed in her sleep and breathed across the treasure hunter's forehead, arm winding tighter around her waist in their newfound closeness. The familiarity of it all made her think for a brief moment that when she opened her eyes, she'd find herself in the inn room of some shabby tavern after another late night tryst. Despite knowing full well where she was and who it was she shared the bed with, some small part of her still hoped that if she hesitated for long enough, she wouldn't have to face reality.

Through a half-lidded gaze still hazy with sleep, Poppy soon stared at the pirate captain who'd captured her three suns before. The terms of their discussion rattled through the treasure hunter's mind with sudden urgency and she tensed beneath Captain Alisaie's arm when she realized that Limsa was likely not so far off. All traces of sleep-addled warmth went cold. But the captain breathed a slow, slumbering rhythm against her, still sound asleep, and Poppy felt her tightly wound muscles unfurl a bit with each exhale. There was still time to plan her escape.

The light of early morning chose then to sneak into the captain's quarters. It crept into the scant space between them from the windows across the room and fell onto the pair like a bright blanket that illuminated the captain's face with soft lines of pale peach. Something about the way the light pooled along the hollow of her cheek and the bridge of her nose and the outline of slightly parted lips urged Poppy's hand to reach up.

Before she realized what she was doing, the pads of her fingers just barely brushed against the captain's brow to sweep the fringe from her face. They then traveled downward to trace the edge of her jaw, lingering near her lips. She remembered the way she'd spoken her name, the softness in her gaze when she asked her to stay. The memories made something within her seize up. It was only then that Poppy caught herself with a terrifying realization.

It would be so stupidly easy to fall in love.

A feeling beyond the lust that'd sparked between them had already taken root, just like a pesky little weed. That was troublesome, to say the least, and a problem that need be pruned. Loving a pirate—one who was her enemy and jailer alike—was foolish beyond even her usual folly. She'd had her fun and needed to _escape_ , not laze around like a blushing maid.

Poppy pulled her hand back as if burned. She began to wriggle out of her bedmate's grasp and moved slow as to not wake her in the process. When she was free, she spared the other woman only a final lingering glance before she shifted to the edge of the bed to grab her tunic from its place tossed carelessly among the captain's clothing on the floor.

The treasure hunter moved with light steps towards the table. She paused only to retrieve her smalls and slipped them on with a detached sort of amusement. Despite the circumstances, it _had_ been a fantastic evening. Those pleasant thoughts died when she spotted her prize atop the table. Gingerly, she reached for it.

The dagger's hilt pressed against her palm, the old leather softened from years of use. She would've scolded the thing for causing so much trouble, but she was too lost in tracing the delicate filigree pattern engraved onto the sheath to even jest to herself. It gleamed silvery in her grasp like the shimmering scales of a fish that darted through the sea, and had proved to be just as slippery. The blade underneath was as beautiful as she remembered when she first saw it three suns prior. It felt like a lifetime had passed since that night on the island.

Poppy felt surprisingly hollow. Her lips pinched together into a tight frown, mouth bitter with unspoken regrets. She placed the dagger back on the table beside its sheath where it winked up at her in the morning light almost as if to taunt her. Annoyance urged her to lean forward on the table and dig her nails into the polished surface on either side of her bounty as she glared down at it. She couldn't fathom why she hesitated so. All she had to do was take the bloody thing and _run_. But, like an invisible anchor, some sort of force kept her rooted in place.

A muted sigh of frustration pushed past Poppy's lips and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her fragmented thoughts. When she opened them again, the stack of folded letters beside her hand caught her attention. The parchment was crisp and stark white against the dark wood of the table, with what she recognized as the insignia of the Maelstrom pressed into the cracked red wax of the seals. Poppy's curiosity got the best of her, or perhaps she simply wanted a brief distraction from her muddled feelings. Either way, she reached for the stack and began to peruse its contents. 

_Captain,_

_The Admiral wishes to express her gratitude for your continued cooperation. You and your crew_ _remain an invaluable resource and your contributions in aiding Limsa Lominsa have been noted_ _. Your contract for privateership has been extended through the following year, should you fulfill the requirements listed below._

Poppy skimmed the rest of the letter with a vague interest that quirked her brow. It outlined the crew's apparent deal with Limsa, including details on payment and listed tasks such as answering the Maelstrom's call should they require the Wild Rose's aid. The treasure hunter thumbed through the other pages to see that they covered similar topics, though several were letters of thanks penned by the Admiral's own hand that mentioned the ransacking of several Garlean vessels, the thwarting of smuggler trade routes, and so on. There was even a missive from some moons prior that requested the pirate's aid in retrieving Mistbeard's Barb, which pulled an ironic smirk onto Poppy's face. It seemed the stakes were high for the captain as well. 

In shuffling through the papers, there was one letter unlike the rest that caught Poppy's interest. It was written in a neat and small script on a thicker cream colored stock that had the remnants of a dark blue seal stuck to its back.

_My dear Alisaie,_

_It has been quite some time since I've heard from you last. I know your profession takes you far beyond the reach of most post moogles and you are surely busy as you gallivant across the sea, but it would put my heart at ease to know that you are alive and well. Pray indulge your worrisome brother in this one simple request and do write back, if only a brief few words._

_I am also writing to inform you that I will soon be returning to Sharlayan for a long overdue visit. I know your feelings on the matter, as you have pointedly told me time and time again, but I hoped that you might perhaps reconsider and join me in—_

"Has no one ever told you that it's rude to read someone else's mail?"

Poppy froze. The stack of letters fell from her grasp and onto the table to cover the dagger. She looked behind her to see Captain Alisaie stare back at her from the bed. She was propped up on an elbow with a bare shoulder poking out from beneath the rosy sheets, dappled in soft morning light. The pirate's glare was dulled by her obvious drowsiness and the soft white fringe that fell over her eyes in sleep-mused tufts. Poppy turned back towards the table, nails tapping against it with restrained urgency. The captain being awake complicated things. 

"You left them out in the open," she replied tartly. 

"In _my_ room, on _my_ table."

" _You're_ the one who invited me here. Besides, I was curious to know more about you."

It certainly wasn't a lie, but the treasure hunter heard the other woman heave an exasperated sigh at that. The bed creaked as she shifted and Poppy soon heard footsteps approach her from behind. 

"And what have you learned from perusing my letters?"

The captain was closer than anticipated—enough to make the hairs on Poppy's neck stand on end from the annoyed edge of her tone. She cast a cautious glance over her shoulder. Captain Alisaie stood a few paces behind her, wearing only her unbuttoned, crumpled blouse and her smalls. It was unfair how enticing her looked even in such a disheveled state. But it was a pointed gaze that stared back at her, cold as ever. The brief sense of peace between them had seemingly evaporated overnight along with their dreams.  

Poppy looked down at the letters and tilted her head, thinking the question over. "We're not so different, you and I," she said after a moment. 

"Oh? How so?" Captain Alisaie asked. She stepped closer still, curiosity evident in her words.

"The mighty Wild Rose is on the Admiral's leash," Poppy replied. She wasn't sure what made her speak with such smug vehemence, but it seeped into her tone even as she continued, "Just like I'm on the Syndicate's. A pair of unfortunate fools, we are." The words tasted sour in her mouth and she flinched when she heard the captain take another step closer. Poppy's fingers fluttered near the edge of the parchment and the dagger hidden underneath. 

"I wouldn't consider myself unfortunate." Captain Alisaie sounded less angry than she expected and closer than she would've liked. "You don't have to be either, should you choose so."

The onze of pity Poppy heard in the captain's voice was enough to steel her nerves and urge her to snatch the dagger. She whirled around with the blade in hand and lifted it to the other woman's throat in a silvery flash of cold steel. Several letters scattered, filling the air with the whisper of paper on wood. The sound was soon replaced by silence, and the treasure hunter's gaze hardened when the captain looked down at her in surprise. Anger sputtered to life in her chest like an aching flame.

"You really think it's as simple as that, don't you?" Poppy snapped, nearly hissing. Her ears were flat against her head. "I told you I don't need your bloody pity."

The captain stared until her surprise wilted into what looked like sadness. She didn't move or bother to fight back. "Well, go on," she said, voice quiet and surprisingly calm. "This is what you've _really_ wanted this whole time, isn't it? To kill me and take the dagger."

The last bit sounded oddly more like an order rather than a question. She lifted her chin to expose more of her pale throat, gazing down at Poppy through soft lashes all the while. It was either the greatest bluff of all time, or she was serious. Either way, the sight made the treasure hunter grit her teeth. Her hand trembled under the strain of her grip, caught somewhere between hesitation and frustration. It would be easy—so very, very easy to cut her down if she wanted to.

"To beat the Wild Rose and win back both my freedom and my bounty—that _should_ be what I want, shouldn't it?" Poppy muttered, more to herself. She choked on a chuckle that tasted bitter as all else.

The dagger was lowered from the captain's throat and tossed backwards. It landed on the table with a loud clatter. She tore her eyes away from that gratingly soft gaze and stepped back, whirling around again to brace her hands against the table.

Despite the attempt to hand her a victory, the pirate had won yet again. Poppy's anger died beneath a pall of cold defeat.

The ship tilted gently around them as it cut a sharp line through the sea and towards Poppy's inevitable fate. Through the windows she watched the sea sputter around the hull, wishing for a moment that she could simply drown in its bright, shimmering embrace. It felt like an age passed before either of them moved, but Captain Alisaie stepped forward to stand beside her. From the corner of her eye, the treasure hunter watched the pirate reach for the tricorne that still hung from the back of her chair. 

"Do you know why it is that I'm called the Wild Rose of the Rhotano?" she asked as she placed the hat on the table before her.

Poppy tilted her head, confused by the unexpected question. "Can't say I do," she said with quiet curiosity.

"It's a title," Captain Alisaie replied. "There was a woman by the name of Wild Rose who's ship we're aboard now. She was the captain of _The Thorn_ before she passed and the person who I owe my life to."

Poppy watched her trace the petal of a large crimson rose with a delicate finger. Despite her surprise, the treasure hunter remained silent, waiting in suspense until the captain continued her tale.

"I came to Eorzea from Sharlayan with my brother not long after our sixteenth nameday. We were on our way to Limsa Lominsa, but there was a horrible storm and the ship capsized." Her brow wrinkled, lids falling halfway over her eyes as she continued to toy with the rose beneath her fingertips.

"I awoke on a beach surrounded by wreckage. That's when Wild Rose and her crew found me. I was the only survivor, they said. She offered to take me to Limsa, but I had no means to return home from there. So, despite my then-disdain of pirates and their ilk, I joined her crew when she offered to take me on, with the thought in mind of leaving as soon as I had enough gil. I quickly learned that Rose wasn't like the pirates I'd heard stories of. She helped people where she could and cut down those who would harm others for their own gain. Eventually, I decided to stay."

The admiration in her tone was hard to ignore. A smile briefly pulled on the corner of her mouth before a wistful look swept it away. "I still often find myself wondering what would have happened if I had returned home. At the time, the thought of facing my parents without my brother at my side... it was too much for me to bear, so I stayed away."

Poppy wrinkled her nose in confusion when the captain trailed off. "But your brother is still alive," she said, finally speaking up.

"He is," Captain Alisaie replied. Her gaze was drawn to the letters scattered across the table. "As it turned out, he had managed to survive as well. I found him years later when I heard whispers of a fair-haired Elezen man who had become a renowned diplomat and politician. By that time, I was too far gone in all of this to join him as I was supposed to all those years ago."

It was the captain's turn to sound bitter, just as her hands fell away from her hat. Poppy's fingers brushed against the edge of letter with the blue seal.

"That's why you don't want to go back to Sharlayan," she mused, voice quiet with understanding. Sympathy found her when she noticed the captain nod, but quickly became suspicion. She finally turned to face the other woman only to scowl. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because you said you wanted to know more about me," the captain replied in an airy sort of way that matched the smirk that crossed her lips, uncaring of the sharp look that fell on her. "I became Rose's successor because it's the most effective way I've found to aid this ailing realm with my own hands. The Admiral's goals just so happen to align with mine for the time being. That's the only reason why I remain on her _leash_ , as you put it." The words were pointed, but not terribly so, and determination was writ on the captain's face when she moved to meet Poppy's gaze. "But if we're anything alike, then freedom suits you more than bending to the monetarists' whims. You needn't remain chained to them. Let me help you."

Poppy was surprised when Captain Alisaie reached towards her. In the flash of emotion that followed her explanation, the captain's hand found her cheek and cupped it all too gently. Despite how her mind screamed at her to pull away, the treasure hunter couldn't find the strength to obey. Instead, she smiled a sad little smile and tilted her head to lean into the touch that threatened to burn her yet again.

"Wouldn't that just chain me to you?" she asked, and the words grew soft at the edges. "I've never done well with cages, captain, and this ship is just one big cage."

"That's not—" the pirate cut herself off and shook her head in disbelief. "And so you would willingly throw yourself into gaol instead?"

"I'd find a way out."

"And how will you pay your debt then?"

"With something even better than that dagger. Plenty of priceless things out there for me to steal."

Poppy was sure the captain's hand would pull away at any moment, but it remained even when her gaze hardened a hair. Her fingers trailed down her jaw where they stopped beneath her chin to tilt it up. She stepped closer to glare down at the shorter woman. Poppy inhaled a sharp breath when the captain's thumb grazed her bottom lip. 

"You're a stubborn fool," Captain Alisaie murmured. 

"That makes two of us, then," Poppy shot back.

Her teeth flashed in a grin before one of her fangs dug into the pad of the captain's thumb—not hard enough to harm, but just enough to make her point clear. The other woman's face darkened at the gesture, though not in an unpleasant way. Her hand finally fell away to be replaced by her lips. 

Poppy knew that she should've pulled away. She knew that she should've ended things before they got too heated, before her traitorous heart could be swept away in a tide of emotion that would do little else but hurt her. Such things were best kept as secret trysts played out in the dark of night, better to be remembered as only a dream. They had, they could've been, before she'd foolishly lingered at day's break. But there beneath the sleepy, watery light of morning, she kissed the captain back despite it all. 

Captain Alisaie's hands fluttered on her waist before they slipped beneath the tunic to brush against the bare skin of her sides. The touch urged Poppy to wind her arms around the taller woman's neck until their bodies were flush yet again. It was all softer than before, gentle in a way that made her ache. Her mind warred with itself all the while but the battle was quickly lost, all sense suffocated beneath the captain's lips. Her back pressed against the edge of the table just as she let out a breath—nearly a whimper—into the other woman's mouth. Captain Alisaie tasted her defeat with a wandering tongue, and the soft hum that pushed past it made the treasure hunter feel weak with want. Before Poppy could even think to retaliate, the captain pulled away. 

"Turn around," she murmured. Seeing Poppy's dazed look of confusion at the abrupt shift, she smirked. "You asked me to bend you over this table last night, did you not? It would be rather rude of me not to oblige."

A hungry note cut beneath the smooth, whispered words, like thorns caught on silk. Poppy couldn't help the graceless laugh that slipped out in her surprise. 

"Didn't think you'd take that request so seriously," she replied, incredulous and just a bit coy.

She nearly laughed again at the whole situation, at how ridiculous her life had become, at how delirious she felt from it all. Regardless, she obeyed, grinning all the while. She was far past the point of no return and saw no reason to not enjoy things until the very end. She'd need some pleasant memories to keep herself entertained in gaol for a while, after all.

Captain Alisaie's breath was warm on the nape of her neck, turning the skin there to gooseflesh. Poppy's back arched from the sensation, from the heat that coiled into a knot within her when firm hands gripped her hips. She pressed back against the captain as the other woman's hands slid beneath her tunic and her tail flicked between her lover's thighs, suggestive enough to draw a chuckle from her. Hands soon palmed her breasts, their callouses just rough enough to provide pleasant friction against sensitive skin. Poppy let out a little breath that edged on a whimper as she leaned forward to brace her own hands against the table. 

The captain wasted no time. A hand dropped down and brushed against the front of Poppy's smalls, fingers curling inward just enough to tease her from outside. She inhaled a sharp, shuddering breath. It was infuriating, Poppy mused to herself in strained silence, how easily she gave in beneath the other woman's touch, how quickly her walls had worn down and how she'd come undone, yet again. She had little time to scold herself before those damnable fingers shifted up towards the hem of her smalls. When they lingered for too long, Poppy canted her hips back impatiently, but the captain still hesitated. 

"I haven't gotten a direct answer from you yet." The sentence was spoken against Poppy's shoulder, almost quiet enough to miss. "My offer still stands." 

The treasure hunter wasn't sure whether to laugh at the timing of the conversation or accuse her lover of bribery. Either way, the fingertips edging almost near where she wanted them most were too distracting for a proper rebuttal. 

"I can't stay," she replied. "You know I can't." It sounded more forlorn than she intended. 

"A pity. You'd make an excellent pirate." The response was lighter than anticipated—almost a joke—but the warm sigh that came with it silently spoke disappointment. 

"I wouldn't," Poppy played along, scolding the captain. The hand on her breast hadn't stopped, the fingers between her thighs still teased. She stared out the windows at the sunlit sea through half-lidded eyes and tried very hard to suppress another whimper. "Can't swim, remember?"

Her humor was rewarded with a scoff against her neck and fingers that finally dipped down beneath the fabric of her smalls.

Her touch was just as deft as it'd been during the night, tracing patterns through the slickness that she knew would make Poppy gasp beneath her. The treasure hunter leaned her elbows on the table, no longer trusting her legs alone to keep her upright. The missives and orders crumpled beneath her arms but Captain Alisaie didn't seem to care for the parchment. She leaned further forward herself to press closer to the smaller woman under her so that her lips and teeth could find her neck, so no ilms could keep them apart. 

A thumb swirled against her breast. A tongue drifted across her pulse. Poppy managed to keep her composure until a finger slid within her. She didn't bother to quiet her voice when she cried out. The angle of it had her digging her nails into papers and the table underneath. It slipped out, brushing purposefully against each nerve, and then back in again and again until Poppy felt all too close to coming undone.

"Captain," she murmured under her breath, needy, almost a plea. 

The other woman shifted above her at being addressed. Her free hand withdrew from beneath Poppy's tunic and crept up her throat and across her cheek until her fingers fell against the treasure hunter's lips. "Say my name," she whispered against her neck, and it sounded like she pleaded in turn.

Poppy's tongue darted out to flick across the captain's fingertips. She took them into her mouth, suggestive and hungry in equal measure. "Alisaie," she obliged the request in a pitched keen, practically choking on it as her release quickly followed. 

It caught her by such surprise that her teeth clamped down on the other woman's hand with enough unintentional pressure to draw forth the taste of copper. Blearily, as the haze of pleasure cleared, she lapped at the wound when she realized what she'd done. Before she could even think to apologize, the captain pulled her hand away from her mouth to reach for the dagger. Fear pierced through Poppy's heady afterglow. She stiffened as the blade was pulled near her, ready to fight.

"Take it," the captain whispered above her, voice ragged. Her breath puffed against Poppy's ear just as it had when she first woke up.

Confusion made her breath go still in her lungs. Without seeing the captain's face, she couldn't tell if she was teasing again or if it was another test. "What?"

"Take it," Captain Alisaie repeated. She nudged the dagger towards Poppy's hand. The bite marks on her fingers had turned to tiny pink welts that stood out boldly against pale skin.

"Have you gone mad?" Poppy asked. Amusement and uncertainty and a whole host of emotion muddled her tone.

"If this is the key to your freedom, then take it."

The captain lowered her head. The whispered words pressed themselves into the crook of Poppy's neck, nearly making her shiver. The kiss that followed held a certain sense of finality. Then, the other woman straightened her back and stepped away until all warmth was gone. The treasure hunter was left reeling, leaning against the table with her bounty beneath her nose.

"But the Admiral is expecting you to bring this back to her."

She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the pirate shrug. The captain made her way across the room towards a vanity that was pushed against the far wall and rummaged through one if its drawers when she reached it.

"Perhaps the bandits never had it at all. She wouldn't know."

Poppy looked back at the dagger. Her fingertips twitched and she snatched it without second thought, clutching the precious thing to her chest on instinct after replacing its sheath. When she pushed away from the table, the captain was beside her again.

"How do I know you're not just setting me up to get caught?" She asked, eyes narrowing as she stared up at the taller woman. 

"You don't," Captain Alisaie replied. "You just have to trust me."

She shrugged again and seemed to slip back into the cold, impassive persona she usually wore. She gestured for Poppy's hand and when the treasure hunter tentatively held it out, she dropped something small and coppery onto it. Another key. 

"For the gun deck. Your confiscated weapons are stored there. Once you retrieve them, you'll need to think up a way to get off the ship unnoticed once we dock—which will be soon." 

Captain Alisaie's gaze was pulled to the windows. Poppy followed it to see Limsa Lominsa's proud, towering silhouette painted on the horizon in shades of shimmering silver and white. The sight made her tense with apprehension.

"I trust that you're equal to the task," the captain added with utmost formality. 

A million different questions flew through Poppy's mind, but none quite made it to her lips. Again, she felt hollow and numb. "Why are you doing this?" she finally managed to ask, quiet in her confusion. 

Captain Alisaie looked back down at her. "I won't be complicit in caging you," was her simple reply. Her facade faltered for the barest hint of a moment in the softness of her eyes and the curve of her lips, but she froze over again before Poppy could get a word out. "Now go."

Poppy said no more. Her eyes ducked down and she stepped to the side to retrieve the remainder of her clothing. She dressed haphazardly, refusing to look at the captain all the while, though she felt the weight of the other woman's gaze on her. Before long, she was at the door with the key in her palm and the dagger tucked into her belt. She didn't look back as she opened it, but hesitated with one foot in the hall. 

"Thank you."

She wasn't sure if Captain Alisaie even heard her, but didn't linger for long enough to find out. The adrenaline that plucked at her nerves was enough to shut out how her heart protested each strained footstep that took her away from the door that closed behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i wrote two more scenes after this, but this one ended up way longer than expected (of course, because i'm terrible at planning) so i'm going to post the rest as its own chapter. tune in next week to see the thrilling conclusion of this horny mess!!


	8. fate or fortune

Salt burned her lungs, stung her eyes, seemed to fill her up to the very brim until she was full to bursting. The haze above broke for just long enough that she took a breath, sputtering, flailing blindly before her head dipped below the brine again. Poppy felt her hand sting as it slapped against the wood of the dock, but she didn't grip it fast enough. It slid away from her and she sank, down, down, downward to where she expected she would die. Terror shot through her at that thought, numb and icy as it grasped her limbs, leaving her too heavy to thrash.

The jump from cannon's porthole hadn't seemed so far, the water not nearly as deep as it really was. Poppy would've cursed her own bloody recklessness if she wasn't so preoccupied with drowning. What a shite way to go, she thought as things got dark and fuzzy at the edges, and so close to the end.

Something on the surface grabbed her still extended hand. She was hoisted upward through the water and out of the sea's horrid maw until all was bright and she was coughing up salt on the edge of the dock. A hand slapped her back once the fit subsided and Poppy looked up to see her savior tower over her, a shadow against the blistering sun. 

"You all right, lass?" The Midlander man had squatted next to her where he squinted from beneath the rim of a wide hat. A fishing rod and tackle box were laid on the dock beside him. "Damn lucky I was walkin' by. Looked like you were about to drown." 

"I..." Poppy took a deep breath. It hurt, but she was alive. "I'm fine," she said. The man eyed her warily. 

"No wonder you sank like a stone with them stabbers strapped to you. D'you really think it wise to try and swim with those?"

He spoke with gentle concern, like a grandfather who scolded a misbehaved child. Poppy would've pouted at the tone, but was too busy still catching her breath. The mention of her daggers made her jolt upright, however. She patted her drenched tunic with frantic hands and let out a sigh of relief when she felt the cold metallic press of her bounty hidden against her side. She glanced up to catch the fisherman raise a brow at her. 

"I slipped," she lied, sounding as sheepish as she felt. "Thanks for pulling me out."

He clucked his tongue at her in an incredulous way. "Of course. Wasn't about to just up and let you die. Just mind your feet next time." 

Poppy ducked her head in an embarrassed nod and forced herself to stand. She very nearly fell forward into the sea again when a wave of dizziness crashed over her. Her savior grabbed her by the arm once more. 

"You sure you're all right? I can walk you to the healers if you'd like," he said. Past the bleariness of her vision, Poppy saw concern creep onto his face and deepen the wrinkles etched into his bronzey skin. 

"Don't trouble yourself, I'll be fine. I just—" When her sight and balance stabilized, Poppy froze. Just past the man, she could see  _The Thorn_  moored at the end of the dock where several women in red shirts directed those stationed above as they lowered the ship's plank. The sight made her remember, suddenly, what was at stake.

"I have to go," she announced abruptly and stepped back out of the grasp that held her upright. "Thanks again," she called over her shoulder, wobbling a bit in her hasty escape. Before Poppy slipped into the crowd gathered near the dock's entrance, she glanced back to catch sight of the fisherman scratch his head in obvious bewilderment. 

Limsa was bustling as always. Poppy let the crowds sweep her through the packed market with its shouting fishmongers and ample stalls, into the airy, saltswept glow of the aetheryte plaza, and up the spiraling walkways that took her to the upper decks where she heard gulls screech overhead. She took it all in with a dazed, blurry amazement.

It wasn't until she was just outside the city's tavern that she left herself stop. Then—despite the handful of glances that being a soaked and bedraggled-looking Miqo'te earned—Poppy plopped down on the parapet of the walkway. With a long, triumphant exhale and a likely mad-looking grin, she realized that she was free. 

The treasure hunter leaned back on her seat and let out a laugh as she raised her hands to wring the water from her messy braid. The searing La Noscean sun beat down on her from above, but she felt its warmth on her face with a newfound appreciation that practically made her purr in delight. She hoped it would soon dry away those last traces of the sea and the memories of the prior days along with it. With her hair sorted, Poppy craned her neck around to look down at the port sprawled beneath her with a smug sort of triumph.

The sails of her former prison were a vivid crimson against the powdery blue of late morning. The streaks of red danced against the dark, rich chestnut of the masts, looking almost like cloth caught aflame with how they billowed from the breeze and the crew's efforts to tie them up.  _The Thorn_ wasn't the biggest ship in the port, nor the prettiest nor sleekest—but she certainly stood out. She was as bold as her captain, who had the incredible audacity to park a pirate vessel directly within the bounds of the city-state.

Poppy picked out members of the crew strutting the length of the docks, all dots of red that matched their ship. Some lugged crates, others rolled barrels that they likely would fill with fresh supplies. She found herself wonder if Yurara would disembark to peruse the markets, remembering how the cook had rattled off a laundry list of produce she was low on—carrots, onions, oranges and so on. The oranges especially, since they were in season and a favored snack among the crew.

Her eyes swept over the deck and she wondered some more, thinking of poor Adeline and if she'd woken from her drunken slumber yet. Thalia would likely stumble upon her in the closet and be cross with her for getting sloshed enough to let her prisoner escape. She wondered yet again what the captain would say to them all about her absence, or the dagger, or—

A frown found her lips, its bitterness tugging them downward like an anchor. Poppy hopped to her feet to cut the thoughts short before they could spiral out of hand. None of it mattered anymore. It wasn't her problem. The treasure hunter headed for the tavern, intent on leaving the past were it belonged: behind her.

The daily ferry schedule was posted on the notice board, its thin edges curled from the damp, salty air, with the route to Vesper Bay penned near the bottom. Poppy traced the timetable with the pad of her finger until she found that the next boat left a few bells past midday. It seemed she had some time to kill. Still, she could likely be back within Ul'dah's walls before nightfall, given she picked a fast enough bird as a porter. The thought filled her with bristling, nervous excitement. Her struggle was nearing its end, her luck finally paying out. 

Pay it would, she hoped, and in full. 

But would it, really? The question nagged.

Poppy's gaze slid to the side just enough to pick out a news column printed on a sheet of thin yellow parchment—freshly clipped and posted, it seemed, given that its date belonged to that very same day. Out of habit, she skimmed the paragraph dedicated to Ul'dah. It was the usual fare: complaints over a hiked tariff of some sort, new threats from the Amaljaa, and—

_Watch your coin purses! News of a thief run amok: Female Miqo'te (Sun Seeker), red hair & green eyes, wanted for crimes against the crown. Report relevant information to our Syndicate's Teledji Adeledji for a handsome reward. _

A sharpened nail dug into the the ferry timetable with enough force to tear the paper. Poppy reached for the news column and ripped it from the board, sending pins flying to her feet. She stared at the parchment crumpled in her palm for what felt like an eternity. No matter how many times she read it, the contents stayed the same, staring back at her in black ink that spelled out her fate. 

The impatient bastard had gone back on his word. She was three days—three short days—late, and that's all it took for Teledji to decide that the forsaken dagger wasn't worth the wait. The cold metal against Poppy's side was no longer a comfort. It might as well have been buried in her gut at that point. 

The treasure hunter spun around and pressed her back against the wall. For a few fragile moments, panic bloomed and burst like a weed rooted deep in her chest. But then the notice crumbled to ash in her palm, burned by the flames of her anger. Poppy scowled into nothingness, seeing through the crowds that filtered in and out of the tavern, and wondered just what in the Seven Hells she was meant to do. Absently, she shoved the bit of paper into her pocket and pushed away from the wall as quickly as she'd leaned against it. She slid into the relief cast by the Drowning Wench's shadow to scheme.

She could still go back. She could explain the situation and beg forgiveness for being tardy. But would the lord even care? He'd likely take the dagger and throw her to the Brass Blades' mercy with no remorse. Even if he didn't, Poppy doubted she'd get paid in full, if at all. He'd have her go get something else to make up for it, and then something more, and she'd be running in circles trying to appease the greedy monetarist until she was wrung dry and tossed aside like a useless scrap of debris.

Despite how her mind vainly tried to argue around it, despite how she'd lied to herself all that time, Poppy knew that she'd never be free.

In the bustle of the tavern and the distraction of her own muddled thoughts, she didn't notice the crate-carrying merchant that barreled right towards her. The man bumped against her shoulder as he pushed past, offering her little more than a grunt of annoyance in lieu of an apology. The sudden force managed to snap Poppy from her stupor. She whirled around to glare daggers after the merchant and was just bristled enough to call something rude after him, but no words came to her.

She watched him instead, seething in her silence. He paused near the tavern's other entrance and shifted the weight of the likely heavy crate from foot to foot. Behind him was a Roegadyn clad in yellow who stood guard before a lift. She eyed the man warily, as if he'd come a bit too close. She was no native Limsan, but Poppy knew who's office resided at the top of the tower, a short ride up that lift. In a moment of bitter, heated clarity, the treasure hunter knew what it was that she wanted to do.

It was a stupid idea. Foolish, reckless, and petty as all hells—but she didn't care. It's not like she had much left to lose. 

Poppy approached the merchant. The man gestured impatiently to another who walked with careful steps towards him, holding a crate that looked heavier than his own. She brushed past beside a handful of people who walked by and, just as the second merchant entered the tavern, extended her foot just enough to trip the hapless passerby who happened to step near her at that moment. The chain reaction she hoped would occur was set off. 

The stranger crashed into the second merchant, causing him to drop his burden right on the foot of his mate, who yowled and dropped his own. The storm of cursing and shouts and spilled produce caught the attention of the Roegadyn guard who then stepped forward to calm the mounting argument born from the confusion. When all eyes in the tavern were pulled to the chaos she sowed, Poppy slipped onto the lift unnoticed and flicked the lever to ride it upward. 

A mindless determination made her numb, buzzing angrily in her head like a swarm of wasps. That numbness carried Poppy off the lift and urged her to burst through the doors of the office—all with more confidence and foolhardiness than was usual even for her. It was only when the stunned gaze of the Admiral of Limsa Lominsa herself as well as her two guards fell on her that Poppy realized exactly what it was that she'd done.

"Who are you?" The Admiral's voice boomed around the office with all the force of a wave that crashed against a shore. She scoured the treasure hunter from head to toe with scrupulous eyes, noting her bedraggled appearance and the half-mad look likely writ on her face, as well as the daggers strapped to her sides. "I wasn't expecting anyone until after midday, and you don't look like usual company," she announced after her inspection, words clipped with suspicion. Her eyes narrowed just as her guards drew their weapons and began to advance on the strange intruder.

"Wait," Poppy called out. She held her hands up out of instinct to show that she was no threat. "I know how this might look, but I have something for you."

The guards froze at her exclamation. All eyes were on her hands, the guards waiting for an excuse to cut her down if she drew a weapon. Tension hung in the room like a thick fog but, slowly, ilm by ilm, Poppy reached for the hem of her tunic and flipped it up to reveal the dagger that sat against her side. After a few breaths of confusion, the Admiral's eyes went wide with recognition. 

Gingerly and with much caution, Poppy pulled the dagger from the waistband of her pantalettes. She gripped it by the sheathed blade and held the hilt out towards the other woman as an offering of peace, like one might hold out a bone to a snarling dog. "I think this belongs to you," she said. 

There was a moment of fragile silence where none of them knew quite what to do next. Eventually, the Admiral spoke, "How in the Seven Hells did you get that? Just _who_ are you?" she asked, brow furrowed with confusion. 

"I can answer those questions and plenty more. I've got a lot of information that might interest you, actually," Poppy replied. She wet her lips, feeling how dry her mouth had gone, and took a tentative step forward. She flinched when the guards moved in turn. "If you're willing to hear me out, that is."

The Admiral's gaze seemed to weigh her very soul. Her eyes were pale as clear pools, complimenting her equality pallid complexion and icy hair. Truthfully, she was as intimidating as she was stunning—an imposing figure clad in contrasting dark outlines against the blues and whites of Limsa that stretched beyond the window behind her. After what felt like a decade of consideration, her sharp features softened just a hair and the Admiral held a hand up. Her guards stepped down after a prolonged moment of hesitation from them both. They settled behind their mistress like a pair of glaring shadows that bit into Poppy with obvious distrust.

"Come, lass. Sit." She gestured to the chair positioned before her desk. "You're either the maddest or bravest woman alive for barging into my office unannounced with Mistbeard's bloody Barb of all things in your hands. I can respect that enough to at least listen to what you have to say," she said. Just a barest hint of humor seemed to hang onto the words and Poppy relaxed a mite upon hearing it. 

"Thanks, Admiral. Though I'm a bit of both, I'd wager," she quipped in reply.

A tentative smirk pulled up the corner of her mouth as she approached the desk. She eyed the guards warily as she sank onto the chair, feeling not unlike how she did when she sat across from the captain, though she was decidedly more nervous in her current situation. Still, she placed the dagger on the desk and slid it towards the other woman with as much confidence as she could muster. For a fraction of a moment, she couldn't quite believe that she willingly gave up her bounty. A cautious stalemate settled between her and the other woman at that gesture.

The Admiral picked up the dagger with a more delicate hand than expected. Relief softened her face further and settled along the curve of her lips as a small smile. The gaze that flicked back up at Poppy still held an edge of sharpness, however.

"I presume this isn't being returned only out of the kindness of your heart. What is it going to cost me, exactly?"

Poppy's teeth flashed in a brief grin. She'd nearly forgotten that she was in the presence of a former pirate who knew just how to speak her language. "Nothing you can't afford, Admiral," she assured. The other woman didn't look quite so convinced, but Poppy spoke the simple truth. "There's only one thing I want in exchange for that and everything I'm about to tell you," she added as she leaned her elbows on the desk.

Speaking it out loud somehow cemented her hasty decision in reality. The Admiral leaned back on her chair with the dagger in hand, looking intrigued.

"Go on, then."

 

* * *

 

"Were the manacles really necessary?" Poppy tested the strength of her binds, feeling metal bite into the wrists held behind her back. "I went willingly, you know."

The Maelstrom officer who marched behind the treasure hunter gave her a nudge—not harsh or cruel, but enough to urge her to continue to trudge down the dock. "I'm aware. 'Tis but a precaution," she replied with utmost formality, not slowing her pace in the slightest. "I can't have you sneaking away if what you claimed turns out to be false."

Poppy sighed, but offered no resistance. She let herself be lead across the winding piers, not paying any mind to those who gawped at their passing. She couldn't blame them, after all. A Miqo'te in handcuffs with a member of the Maelstrom at her heels was an odd sight indeed.

When they approached her, _The Thorn'_ s sails were pressed against her masts, like tightly furled rose buds that held fast to their stems. She towered overhead, a familiar thing that was somehow a sight for sore eyes despite all that she'd been through aboard the vessel. The plank was still lowered, for better or worse. Just as Poppy looked up the thin beam of wood—apprehension churning within her like the sea that held the ship aloft—she saw a head framed by a pair of pearly horns peak over the railing of the ship. 

"Poppy?" Ajisai clutched the handle of a broom with a length of rope curled around her arm. "Shouldn't you be..." she trailed off, looked behind herself as if to search for a phantom of the treasure hunter, then back at Poppy. Her eyes flicked between her and the woman beside her with utter bewilderment.

"Hey, Aji," Poppy called up to her. She flashed a smile, though her ears tipped to the sides in an apologetic way.

Before Ajisai could voice her obvious confusion or Poppy could explain, the Maelstrom officer spoke up, "Is your captain about? I've a missive from the Admiral."

Upon hearing that title, Ajisai stiffened. "O-of course! I'll go fetch her right away."

Her grip on the broom went slack for a moment, but she caught it before it could fall from her grasp, though the rope on her shoulder slid down her arm. With a final questioning glance at Poppy, the flustered Au Ra skittered away and out of sight. It wasn't long before other heads poked over the railing to take her place. Even from below, Poppy could hear the whispers seeped in curiosity and confusion alike.

When the captain soon appeared at the top of the plank as a crimson shadow haloed by the midday sun, the treasure hunter felt the urge to look away. Only footfalls on wood signaled her approach, growing louder as she drew near. The eventual silence of her closeness was filled with the sputtering of the sea.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The question cut like a knife in Poppy's ears, though it's underlying curiosity gave her a torn scrap of hope to cling to. The Maelstrom officer stepped forward to answer.

"Captain Alisaie." The Midlander addressed the pirate with a brief salute. Poppy heard the crinkling of parchment retrieved from within the pockets of her uniform. "I've word from the Admiral. She expresses her thanks for your part in returning the relic and wishes to inform you that your cooperation will be rewarded handsomely." The paper exchanged hands. Poppy busied herself with counting the grains of the dock's wood beneath her feet as the officer prattled on, "A bonus has been added to the total for information pertaining illicit black market trade routes that your crew member provided." There was a pause and Poppy felt the other woman nudge her in the elbow to signify that she was formally part of the conversation. "If she really is one of your crew, as she so proclaimed," the officer added with a barely disguised hint of skepticism.

Though she couldn't see her face, Poppy could feel the weight of the captain's stare as if it were a physical thing that hung around her shoulders. The sensation made the back of her neck burn. Finally, she mustered the courage to lift her gaze. 

"Ahoy, captain," Poppy said, voice cracked and quiet with caution. Despite it all, she still felt a simpering smile bloom across her traitorous face.

The gaze that stared back at her was cold and devoid of emotion. The captain was as intimidating as ever with her tricorne and her overcoat and the rapier strapped to her side—a far cry from the disheveled and vulnerable woman from that morning and the night before. The treasure hunter feared the worst, and perhaps she deserved it. But then, it was the captain's turn to hide. She closed her eyes and exhaled a breath through her nose, which was a clear indication of her exasperation. When her eyes opened again, they were softened just enough to make something within Poppy's chest seize up.

"Aye. She's one of mine," Captain Alisaie said to the officer.

"Very well," the woman replied and reached for the keys on her belt. Before long, the officer stepped back and Poppy was free. "The Admiral will still meet with you at the scheduled time for a debriefing. Farewell for now, captain."

The Midlander gave another polite salute to Captain Alisaie before she retreated down the docks, leaving Poppy at the foot of the plank to rub her sore wrists. Above her, the captain cleared her throat. 

"Come on then. After you, my dutiful crew member," she said with a bite of sarcasm and stepped to the side to gesture up towards her ship. 

Poppy hesitated for only a moment. She moved past the captain, feeling sheepish again beneath her gaze. After a few steps up, the other woman was at her heels.

"What have you done?" She murmured the question behind Poppy, close enough that only she could hear it and feel the warmth of confusion graze her neck. "Just _what_ are you playing at now?"

Without turning back, Poppy answered, "Isn't it obvious, captain? I accept your offer." She received no reply after that.

When they reached the main deck, what looked like most of the crew had gathered there, waiting for an explanation. Poppy steeled herself beneath their suspicious glances while Captain Alisaie stepped onto the deck beside her to address them.

"As you all may have guessed, our job here is finished. It seems that our very own thief took it upon herself to hand-deliver Mistbeard's Barb to the Admiral on our behalf," Captain Alisaie announced, mild annoyance licking the words like little flames. "Now she would join our crew, if you all would have her." 

A collective hushed murmur burst through the group. Some still seemed wary, with pointed glances aimed in the treasure hunter's direction, while others shrugged and seemed to not care. A consensus would not be reached so easily, it seemed. It was a marvel, then, that it was the meek Ajisai who spoke up first.

"She should stay, I think," the Au Ra said, loud enough for her mates' eyes to be pulled in her direction. When their collective gaze landed on her, her shoulders sagged as if pressed down with invisible weight. The nervous woman toyed with the end of the rope still coiled around her arm. "She cleans well," was her simple argument. 

There was a whispered wave of consideration, during which a head of bright orange hair pushed through the crowd. The ship's cook was soon at the forefront of the group. "I agree. She's useful for sure. She can peel a whole mound of popotos in less than a half bell," Yurara called out and then flashed a smile at Poppy.

The treasure hunter grinned in return as the murmur grew louder and sounded more in her favor. She thought of Yurara's stories as her gaze swept over the faces of _The Thorn'_ s crew and the Lalafell's words were in the back of her mind yet again, echoing like the pleasant chime of a bell: _you'd fit right in_.

"Well, I can do a lot more than chores, you know," she said, finding her voice to address the crew herself with a slightly petulant note. She'd rather go to gaol than be stuck on those duties again, but bolstered herself to plead her case. "My blades are yours if you'd have them. I can fight and I can make you decent coin," she announced.

"I'd say so. Earned us an extra twenty percent already, you did." Ankaswys approached the captain during all the excitement and had taken the missive from her. Her pale eyes scanned the numbers and she nodded her approval all the while. "I say she stays. 'Specially if there's more where this came from."

With the Quartermaster herself on her side, there was little cause for dissent. Most of the crew nodded in agreement at that point—even Lark inclined her head, who Poppy noticed had been silent and very skeptical-looking the entire time. The door to the lower parts of the ship burst open just as she started to feel at home. Much to her dismay, it was her previous night's jailer who was hoisted up onto the deck on Thalia's arm.

The Highlander blinked against the daylight that fell on her face and she squinted out at the crew, confused and obviously pained from a hangover. When she spotted the treasure hunter, she instantly stood up straighter. "You!" she called out and the exclamation cut through her mates' chatter. In the silence that followed, Poppy expected she wouldn't get a glowing review, but was stunned to see the other woman's face crack into a grin.

"Drank me under the table just like ye promised, ye little shite," Adeline said and lurched forward despite Thalia's attempts to keep her in place. "I'm too damn impressed to be mad at ye fer sneakin' away. Better let me 'ave a rematch sometime, though."

Poppy didn't have the heart to admit that she'd cheated, so she grinned instead. "Should have plenty of chances for that, I hope," she said and cast a cautious glance in the captain's direction. 

The Elezen considered her for a moment before her eyes swept over her crew. "It seems that there are no protests."

She paused to make sure that statement was correct. Adeline was surprised enough by everything that unfolded before her that she wobbled a bit until Thalia pushed herself beneath the taller woman's arm again to steady her. The other Miqo'te looked less than pleased by the whole situation. A glower was pointed at Poppy and she opened her mouth to speak, likely to protest. She softened when her beloved nuzzled affectionately against the side of her head in silent thanks. Her mouth closed then, her tongue held to begrudgingly concede. 

When no voices were raised, the captain nodded. "Welcome aboard, Poppy."

The crew's chatter rose excitedly. Second by second, the treasure hunter felt herself relax as the reality of it all settled. Relief pushed a laugh past her lips when the crew pressed in around her, no longer threatening, but welcome despite some lingering reservations. She wasn't their prisoner anymore, but a member amongst them. It seemed too odd to be real. Before she could get too comfortable, however, she felt a presence brush past behind her.

"With me for a moment," she heard the captain say.

Poppy watched the other woman make her way across the deck to the upper level, where she was meant to follow. She retraced her steps up the stairs to find Captain Alisaie near the helm. Her arms were crossed and she looked none too pleased with a perplexed expression pulled across her face.

"Why are you here?" she asked. The words strained with how genuine the question sounded and the captain's eyes scoured the treasure hunter's face to find the answer. Poppy simply smiled.

"For someone who asked me to stay, you don't sound too happy." She crossed her arms and shrugged, making her way across the deck towards the other woman. "I don't like having debts, captain. You spared me, and I wanted to repay you."

When Captain Alisaie didn't looked satisfied with that answer, a smirk pulled on Poppy's lips. She stopped just short of reaching the captain and brushed past as she sauntered over to the small table placed beside the helm so that her hands could fall on the map laid across it.

"No better way to hunt treasure than aboard this thing, after all. Plenty of coin to be made on the open sea. Might be nice sharing a bounty with other folks for once too," Poppy explained.

It certainly wasn't a lie. There was plenty of adventure to be had that was profitable to boot. She stared down at the map and used a sharp nail to trace the coasts of lands usually far beyond her reach until the captain's silence was deafening in her ears. Poppy sighed at the other woman's bullheadedness in trying to reel the full truth from her. Finally, she reached into her pocket to retrieve the crumpled up news clipping.  

" _This_ was also decent motivation."

She flattened the paper against the map with her palm. The captain stepped closer and leaned over beside her to get a better look at it. 

"Ah. Now all of this nonsense makes more sense," she said, tone tart but sounding satisfied.

"So, I got angry enough to sell out all my clients. You're welcome for the bonus, by the way. It's what I asked for in exchange for the dagger." Poppy scoffed and brushed the clipping aside, not caring when it fell to the deck below. "I need to lay low for a long while. Hope you don't mind that I chose here to do that."

The captain's gaze fell down on her. "I invited you aboard, didn't I? If you put your skills to good use for the betterment of my crew, you may count yourself among their ranks for as long as you please," she said with a shrug. There was a pause where something unreadable crossed her face like a flicker of brief shadow. "Still, I thought you didn't want to be chained to me," she said. "I meant to free you."

The other woman's words were too honest, too raw. Poppy's throat clenched a bit from the admittance that clawed up it, "I've realized this is the best chance I have at freedom. I want to be here. With you."

The captain was silent beside her. "All right," she murmured after a while. She then spoke with a hushed sharpness that was perhaps tinged with a hint of amusement, "As long as you don't expect any sort of special treatment just because you've warmed my bed."

The comment hit her like an arrow. If Poppy had been a more proper lady, she would've gasped. "Such accusation!" She clucked her tongue in mock offense and shot the pirate a searing look, but the grin she wore made her delight an obvious, tangible thing. As she turned on her heel to face the other woman, she crushed the crumpled parchment printed with the besmirched fate she aimed to defy beneath the sole of her boot.

Captain Alisaie watched with wariness and annoyance alike as the treasure hunter reached out to slide her hands over the front of her overcoat. Each button was a cold, familiar pinprick, the soft wool pleasant against her palms. She paused at the collar of her blouse that was pressed flat and no longer crumpled from her firm grip the night before. Still, just beneath that crisp white cotton, she could see that tiny purplish bruises had blossomed where her teeth had claimed the other woman's skin. The sight made a satisfying warmth sputter in her chest that urged her even closer, like a moth drawn to a flame. A dangerous thought buzzed in the back of her mind, whispering that the captain was _hers_.

"I don't expect anything," Poppy assured, cheeks puffed out slightly from a teasing pout. She raised herself onto the tips of her toes and gave the taller woman's shoulders a tug, half-expecting to be pushed away. She ducked beneath the rim of that menacing tricorne, boldly pushing past all boundaries to come closer than she should've been, but she was no longer afraid of its wearer. "As long as I get to _keep_ warming your bed, that is."

The whispered response was met with a glare. "You're shameless."

Poppy could only sneer. To her surprise, Captain Alisaie met her halfway. Perhaps a bit begrudgingly, though her lips soon made her eagerness clear. Despite the cold reception Poppy had received, the kiss spoke little else but warmth. Wordlessly, the captain showed her relief—the restlessness of the hands at her waist that pulled her near, the press against her mouth that was frantic until it all grew slower, softer, achingly languid.

It felt right, somehow, to be on that bloody boat on the thrice-damned sea and wrapped in the florid embrace of the woman who had been no less than her enemy a bell before. Poppy threw her arms around Captain Alisaie's neck and let herself become lost in that terrifying, exhilarating feeling of being reunited with her lover. 

"Am I interrupting something?"

The moment ended sooner than she would've liked. The captain pulled away, looking annoyed for breath before embarrassment swept the sharp look away. Poppy glanced over her shoulder to see Ankaswys at the top of the stairs, grinning from ear to ear.

"Damn, I owe Yurara some coin. Clever little thing figured you'd be 'round the captain's neck in no time. I thought it'd take a bit longer than _this_."

Poppy pressed a cheek against the captain's chest. She leaned against the taller woman with her arms still wound around her neck, pleased as punch to be caught in such a compromising position. "Oh, you don't even know the half of it," she added with a suggestive lilt of her tone and a playful flick of her tail.

Above her, the tips of captain's ears turned an impressive shade of red that almost matched the rose on her hat. Even in the obvious surge of discomfort that made her stiffen against Poppy's embrace, she still didn't push the smaller woman away, choosing instead to cling to her as if she were a lifeline. "Pardon—you placed _bets_?" she asked and her voice cracked a bit with indignation. Ankaswys's boisterous laughter rumbled around them like a rolling wave.

"'Course we did, captain! All in good fun. I hope you don't take any offense."

The Quartermaster cheerily approached the helm, not bothering to conceal her satisfaction, even despite the lost bet. For a moment Captain Alisaie looked ready to let loose her sharp tongue, but a sigh escaped her instead. She wilted a bit in defeat, but Poppy detangled herself from their embrace to spare her more embarrassment.

"Well, I s'pose I should excuse myself. Let you get back to your captainly duties and such. Got to get acquainted with my new home, after all," she said and backed away a few steps towards the stairs.

Captain Alisaie seemed to recover in an instant. "Behave yourself," she warned. "Don't make me regret this."

"Aye, captain. I wouldn't dare disappoint you," Poppy shot back, airily casual and perhaps just a bit affectionate.

A salute was offered to her and Ankaswys with utmost drama. The Quartermaster chuckled from behind the helm, while the captain rolled her eyes. Poppy spun on her heel to retreat, tail flicking behind her with amusement.

She descended to the very last step of the stairs before some sort of nagging feeling urged her to look back. Captain Alisaie stood there near the helm, a proud streak of red against the pale blue of the sky, chatting with her Quartermaster as they both looked over a map. The salt-seeped breeze kicked up, shifting the pale fringe from her face just as she looked over to find Poppy's lingering gaze.

There were no walls then, no cold facades, and no titles that kept them apart. Alisaie smiled and it was a gentle, genuine thing that crinkled the corners of the pretty eyes that were the same color as the Rhotano Sea. No matter what it was that brought them together—fate, fortune, or simple bad luck—Poppy was glad to have been swept up in the madness.

She remembered how she'd been very pointedly told that the heart of a pirate was a difficult thing to steal. It was funny, then, that one had somehow managed to steal hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been very difficult to focus on writing with all the exciting shb info coming out, but i finally managed to wrap this up. it really is funny how this story was originally meant to be a quick 15k word thing that i was supposed to complete in like 3 weeks. obviously that didn't happen lol. why i even both outlining, i don't know... still, i really enjoyed writing this and it helped me break out of my comfort zone a lot. i could honestly write a whole novel more, but maybe i'll revisit it one day and write some one shots about the girls having piratey adventures on the sea.
> 
> thank you for the comments and the kudos and sticking around for this wild ride. it always makes my day to know that y'all enjoy my silly stuff. i hope this conclusion was satisfying and i'm looking forward to the next projects i have in mind!


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